Darkness In My soul
by Absolutely-Fuzz
Summary: She thought she knew who she was, but when premonitions of the past plague her day and night she begins to discover things are not what they seem...and with that comes the rise of an even more powerful Dark Lord who is out for revenge... ON HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own bla-bla-bla and so on

**Chapter 1**

The girl who'd spent most of her seven years in Hogwarts in silence. The Mudblood. Who'd been tormented by the rival Slytherins; along with her pears. Though that's not what got to her so...no. She had been plagued by nightmares so horrific they were always being replayed in her mind.

Whispering foul secrets to her.

She quickly stashed book under her pillow and began scratching away at her Transfiguration homework, when a knock at the door disturbed her somewhat fragile concentration. She jumped then looked towards the door. "Who is it?" She asked gruffly, rubbing her sore eyes while she was at it. The door creaked open a little and in came a wave of bright light; making the girl squint at its brightness. She sighed. "If that's you Neville...then sorry but I can't help you." she muttered to the slightly open door.

Ronald Weasly frowned at the door and pushed it open, strutting into her dorm room like he owned the place. _It's unusually dark in here._ He narrowed his eyes some more, searching for Hermione in the dim light. "No...Actually Hermione it's me...you know Ron...your life long pal...?" he said to the darkness he waited for her response. None.

Ron Weasly; tall and bulky. That's how he was now, summers of Quiditch practice and working in The Burrow had certainly done a lot for his physique. He ruffled his already messy hair with his mind wondering off to the last Quiditch game in the season.

She jumped out of the shadows suddenly, making poor Ron scream in surprise. _Thump! _He fell crashing to the ground over a pile of homework and books. She raiseda slender eyebrow at him as she took in his little situation.

Ron raised his hand up to her, hoping she'd help him.

"Come on Hermione…I could do with some help."

"Maybe… If you weren't so clumsy…" she muttered grabbing his outstretched hand with two hands, and hauling him up eventually. Once Ron was up, he rubbed his sore end, muttering oaths and curses under his breath.

She smiled at him in slight amusement. Walking over to her bed she sat down.

"What is it you wanted then Ron?" she asked

Ron gave her a quizzical look before casually departing her dorm room and only turning once to shout over his shoulder.

"It's dinner time Hermione…'n' hurry up!"

She glared at his fleeting figure; picking up her wand from her bed she muttered a quick cleaning spelling, once satisfied, she grabbed her robes, slung them around her shoulders and pocketing her wand, ran out of her room racing down the girl's dormitory and into the Griffindor common room, where a cozy red and gold fire was alight. She smiled to herself and slowed to a walk once she neared the opening leading to the wonderful world out side the Griffindor common room. She pushed open the portrait; gracefully flinging herself out; were she slammed face first into a concrete wall.

_Concrete wall?__ There's no wall here…well none that I know of. _

"Uhh…" she groaned.

Before she knew it she found herself being pulled up by the elbow, then a deep chuckle above her. _Wait a minute…_ Blinking she looked up to see none other than Harry Potter gazing at her with faked concern, lips twitching slightly. Behind him was Ron laughing at her misfortune.

Annoyed she walked past them briskly. They followed behind.

"You think that's so funny don't you."

"No… we thought it was hilarious!" they said in unison

She shook her head at them, and then entwined her elbows with theirs.

_First person … POV_

The Great Hall was buzzing with chatter and laughter; everyone talking over themselves. Which wasn't really much of a surprise, they always did that…talking and talking I guess, but here I was sitting between Harry and Ron who were discussing their latest and by far most secret weapon that would get us…Griffindor to win the cup again seven times in a row. _Whoooopii__._ I shout inside. I may not look that interested in Quidditch, but really I'm just as excited about feeling the wind in my hair as I am over reading Hogwarts a History…not… that's probably not my favourite but well my first magical book (if you could call that) I've read.

They don't seem to notice me much now that they're lost in a Quidditch world of their own but that might be for the best.

"No Harry…look… if we can nail the defences first then we're on."

"Nah…think Ron…we'll be open to attack…" I gave them both a lopsided grin, hoping they'd notice I was still alive and breathing…well someone did. "Hey Hermione…" it was Seamus Finnigan.

I turned to look up at him, but he wasn't looking at me; no, at the entrance to the Great Hall. All the chatter died sown suddenly only leaving room for hushed whispers; a figure adorned all in black stepped into the hall, head covered in the thick hooded robe of his? Was it even a he? It walked towards the Teacher's table in big confident strides, never stopping to look back at the students who seamed to have all eyes glued on It; well a part from a few student sitting on the Slytherin table, sniggering as It strode past their table.

This wasn't good. It defiantly didn't feel right. When the black shadow reached the table, Dumbledore himself stood up. Raising his arms in a welcoming fashion a warm smile plastered to his aged and weathered face.

"Students…. please welcome Mr. Yaji; who I am honored to say will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts this year."

The Shadow turned around to face the students, pulling his heavy black hood away from his face; revealing to us his jet black spiky shoulder length hair and sharp pointy features, startling violet-blue eyes that were even colder than cold itself. His skin was lightly tanned and by the looks of it very built He pulled his features into a fake smile, more sinister than Snape's. Even so the students began clapping whole-heartedly…a teacher for Defence Against the Dark Arts was better than having no teacher to teach it at all.

Harry nudged me in the ribs, grabbing my attention a few moments later, I turned to him. He grimaced then whispered. "I have a feeling he and Snape might be very good friends." He grimaced again. I almost laughed…almost; before I caught the new comer's glacier eyes staring at me and not in a friendly way either. I blinked and before I new it I was again engulfed in the Great Halls lively chatter.

(_Back to narrative)_

It was now exactly ten o'clock and the students in Hogwarts after having their dinner had left noisily to go to their dorms. Now the professors of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were all gathered together after dinner in the Great Hall to discuss the matter of the new professor they had just received.

Albus Dumbledore waved his arms about frantically trying to calm his professors down a bit. They turned their heads towards him some holding a frown mainly Snape that is. Dimbledore sat down on his wooden chair and gazed at his professors over his half moon spectacles.

"Today…we have not only received a new Professor but shall we say a powerful ally." He smiled warmly at his professors.

He was interrupted by Severus' Snape's monotonous voice about to protest. "Albus…" Dumbledore silenced him with a hand; signalling the Potions Master, sit.

"Yes…yes…I'm well aware of the matter at hand, and will personally do everything I can to prevent it…along with some help of course dear, Severus." His eyes twinkled merrily, even though he knew of the coming fate, which would hit Hogwarts and its students... Hard.

Draco Malfoy sat in the Slytherin common room, silently staring at the fire that roared within the gigantic ornamental fireplace, clearly lost in his own thoughts to notice Crabbe and Goyle tip toe past the sofa, which Draco occupied.

Draco Malfoy. "Bad boy" and also known as "Slytherin prince" lost so deeply in his own mindless thoughts…one would be amazed to see him in such a state. He sighed heavily and turned his gaze away from the ever changing flames, taking in the details of the common room, he leaned back into the comforts of the velvety green sofa, spreading his arms to either side of him in a dominant fashion; he closed his eyes; and sighed again.

It had been almost a whole week at Hogwarts and so far so, much had happened. _Yeah right much…_All that had really happened was a grim new Defence Against The Bloody Dark Arts teacher popping out of nowhere and four days into the start of the school academic year. He had been thoroughly raking his brain for ideas to why Mr. New guy seemed so familiar. _ Probably reminds me of father…_Lucius Malfoy may be a Death eater but just because he is, doesn't mean that he beats Draco. No. The Dark Lord would have none of that, seeming, as Draco _is_ his heir. Even though ones child still must be disciplined….

_ A/N: That's as far as I'll go…yes, yes I know it's short but that's the way most beginnings are right? So I need your views and helpful criticism…no making fun of me I worked hard on this chapter and lo…behold…it is not the end yet. _


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own bla-bla-bla and so on.

**Chapter 2: **

_First person … POV_

It's Friday morning; still dull and dreary. I'm in Defence Against the Dark Arts stuck in a hell hole…really I should be paying more attention to the lesson, but I haven't been myself for a while. What am I talking about I'm always myself but watching the rainfall is much more exciting than listening to the professor drone on and on about poltergeists; sheesh we have one already.

"Ms. Granger…can you please explain what it is you find so interesting about the window; as clearly, I seem to be very baffled, don't you think class."

I jumped out of my chair, 'literally' that is and turned to face him with a pathetic bored look plastered to my face. That certainly seemed to annoy him further, as he said "Andif I am _mistaken_. Why don't you demonstrate how one renders a harmful poltergeist shall we say…harmless." I didn't really think I could object and by the concerned glances I got from Harry and Ron they didn't think so either. From the corner of the room I could hear a few Ravenclaws sniggering at my misfortune, I shot a deathly cold glare at them as I made my way up to the front of the class, Where Professor Yaji seemed to have conjured a makeshift poltergeist.

Pulling my wand from the inner pocket of my robes, I pointed it at the misty 'half-here-half-not' illusion; that was gliding aimlessly over to the right hand; far corner of thedungeon.

This was definitely an easy target for sure. "Anoctorium"

Immediately the poltergeist whirled at me, it's deformed and misty features turning ugly and angry, it charged, ripping through the air in my direction. "…Oops…" I breathed. I squeezed out the clump of oxygen that had decided to settle somewhere down my throat. It must have been a wrong spell-but I never got my spells mixed up…no…he couldn't, but he did! I didn't have much time to wonder about what had gone wrong as then the enraged poltergeist was speeding towards me- why should I be scared when it was only an illusion.

Boy was I wrong.

The misty distortions had only partly reached Hermione, stretching out its smoky tendrils towards her; she felt its 'fingertips' brush past her face- more like scratch her lightly before Professor Yaji fired at crimson coloured beam from the tip of his wand, shouting "Anoctorium!" at the top of his voice. The beam dissipated the poltergeist leaving only little wisps of milky smoke floating around the dungeon. The dungeon seemed unusually silent. Slowly, cautiously she turned her head to the professor. Yaji stared at her with his arms crossed over his chest, letting his facial muscles relax; he raised his eyebrows at her then swiftly turned around to the black board. Perplexed Hermione Granger dragged herself back to her seat.

"As you have witnessed there…" He growled, rubbing viciously at the black board. "…One must be prepared for any kind of aggression." He stopped rubbing his scratchings off the board and turned to face his blank faced students. Grinning nastily he announced that week's homework. "…Half a meter long essay on the dwellings of poltergeists…when I say half a meter, that is only the minimum and let me say; this is only when I'm feeling generous…" then he turned his back to his class again. Miraculously the bell rang a few seconds later.

"Class dismissed." He growled once more.

"I think a certain someone has the same obsession with showing Hermione up as Snape does with you."

Ron sniggered, that is after risking a glance at the fuming Hermione.

"Earth to Hermione…anyone in there?" Harry said whilst waving a hand in front of her face.

She shot him a dark look for interrupting her thoughts, then sighed, "That Professor is just as bad as Snape…" she muttered.

"Well if you had been paying attention then maybe you would have noticed that we just said the same thing a while ago."

She glowered at Ron then stormed off clutching her Arithmancy books to her chest, leaving behind a rather bewildered Ron and Harry. Harry shot him an accusing look.

"What?" he shot back "All I said was that _He _had it in For Herm'…'K…and don't give me that look you plonker."

"What!?...She was angry with you remember."

Ron sighed nonchalantly then grabbed Harry by the arm and began pulling him along to their next lesson, which sadly happened to be Divination. "Come on…" He tugged again this time more fiercely "…or we'll be late…" Harry let himself be dragged along by Ron as he was too busy wondering about other things to care…

At lunch in the Great Hall Hermione still seemed to be in a foul mood. Ron and Harry who from time to time tried their luck at cheering her up, but alas to no avail, all the attempts were in vain. Ginny noticed the disdainful look on Hermione's face. It had been the forth time that week since the arrival of Professor Yaji on Tuesday evening that she had been like this and Ginny could no longer stand it- she wanted answers and she'd get them. She smiled encouragingly at Hermione from her seat opposite her but Hermione seemed to be occupied with her latest book, she sighed and returned to her own unfinished meal, planning ways to get the answers to her own questions. Still Hermione stared at her book of Alchemy not really seeing it or hearing the ear-splitting noise of the Great Hall around her.

It was in the last two lessons till the end of the school day that things really seemed to become worse for Hermione. Double potions in a dark dungeon room again, but with professor Snape. It was a good thing he didn't have an obsession with Hermione as he did with Harry otherwise she would have not have been able to put up with as Harry does. Even though she had once entertained the idea of cursing him in his sleep or maybe slipping some hair growth potion into his food…though these were only to get back at him for Harry's sake not for her own pleasure…

They filed up outside the dungeon behind the Slytherins who apparently happened to be listening to some nonsense that Darco Malfoy was spouting. Hermione readjusted her backpack for the third time since they had arrived, to be greeted non-to pleasantly by the Slytherins. She twisted a strand of hair between her thumb and forefinger, then sighed and yanked on it.

" …Dumbledore's little cronies…still haven't chosen the Head Boy and Girl but of course it will be me…"

She yanked again this time a little harder, Harry and Ron were behind her whispering about something and she couldn't care less all she wanted was to go to the library and submerge her trouble in books.

"…Snape says that he's got no chance but Dumbledore still says they are deciding…"

She yanked again and no sooner did Snape open the dungeon door than all the chatter died at once. Dumbledore stepped out from behind him and greeted his students then walked of briskly for an old man in the opposite direction. Snape smirked evilly at his fellow students then announced. "We are to move in silence throughout the school to the room we have been allocated…and silence means silence." He strode past the neat line of students and up the stairs without looking back; the others followed behind in silence. Well all apart from Hermione who muttered oaths under her breath.

They sat down in their allocated seats, a mix of Slytherin and Griffindor at the front and back. Snape stared down hard on the remaining Griffindors and glared especially hard at Harry.

"For the duration of the Term you will be working on a project that will go towards your NEWTs ; saying this I expect you all to obtain astoundingly high marks…ten points off Griffindor for impertinence Mr. Weasly; I will have none of it."

Ron's blushed furiously and ran a hand through his hair to hide his red ears.

"…As I was saying this project which I expect you _all…_" he glared pointedly at Harry and Ron.

"…. To excel in will be set on a bonding potion; that if brewed correctly will join two minds as one…temporarily…as this is a _very _complex potion you will be working in select groups of the Headmasters choosing, which is very unfortunate for some." He sent a calculating look at Malfoy.

Malfoy, apparently happened to be paying attention at that moment and raised a frosty eyebrow accordingly.

"You will work with the members of your group to obtain relevant information that will enable each of you to contribute to the making of your potion. Every group must complete and test their potion and if this is not the case…."

Hermione groaned inwardly, already planning out the time it would take to brew a legarsi potion, including the time it would take up to collect the right information and ingredients…It would take almost an entire month. She shuddered inwardly and then turned her attention back onto Snape.

"…Listen to your names and get into your allocated groups: Andrea Dorkins , Jordan Smiths, Seamus Finnigan…"

Seamus shot a pleading look at Harry then went over to join the two Slytherins mentioned above.

"…Harry Potter, Gregory Goyle and Vincent Grabbe…"

Hermione smiled sympathetically at him while Ron busied himself with looking red in the face with anger; Snape carried on chanting out his victims names till there were only three not in an allocated group. (a/n can you guess?...no..)

"…. Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson." He set down his long list of names onto his wooden desk and turned back to his class with a malicious looking smirk plastered to his face. Hermione sent a horrified look at him, which he ignored and instead in a slightly irritated tone said "Ms Granger is there a problem?"

She sighed and pulled herself out of her current seat. "No_ sir._" Walking down to the back corner of the room where the ecstatic Parkinson was pestering Malfoy. Hermione narrowed her eyes at her. Malfoy having finally noticed her; shot her an icy glare, which she returned full force, however Parkinson didn't seem to notice anything other than the Ice King sitting in front of her hungry eyes.

"Granger; Have a seat." He drawled

"Don't tell me what to do Malfoy, you have no authority over me."

"I'm sure you're right Mudblood."

"Oh…get over yourself you conceited prick."

Parkinson, at that started and opened her mouth to throw an insult at her; unfortunately she was interrupted.

"Granger…shut and sit."

She stayed quiet dropping her bag onto the floor beside Parkinson, making Parkinson jump and scowl at her. She dragged a stool noisily over to their table and sat down on it heavily all the while glaring at Malfoy.

Dinnertime in the great hall and Hermione _still_ seemed to be in a bad mood. Harry and Ron sent her some sympathetic looks, which she refused to acknowledge. Ginny however was busy plotting a way to get Hermione alone with her so she could confess. Hermione stared at her plate; after losing her appetite a full twenty minutes ago, all she could do was stare. _I have to get out of here…_

"Hey! Hermione what's up?" Ron enquired

"Yeah! Like Ron said…" Neville joined in from a seat or two away

"Buzz out Nev' my friend"

"I'm her friend too y'know." Countered Neville

"BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!!" Suddenly the entire table went quiet as all eyes turned to an angry Hermione. She glared at them all, jumped out of her seat, knocking over the cup of pumpkin juice causing it to spill down her skirt then ran; out of the Great Hall to a place where she was bound to find solace.

"…Sorry…" whispered Neville with wide eyes as he watched the door to the halls swing shut.

Harry and Ron looked at each other and shook their heads, silently agreeing to leave Hermione to herself. That is at least until she had cooled down.

She ran panting slightly until she was by the great oak swinging doors of the library. Walking in, she rubbed fiercely at her shiny eyes, forcing the cool tears back. She stopped and looked around the library awkwardly. Pulling herself up to her full height she stomped across into one of the dimly lit aisles. Sliding down to the floor leaving her back to be supported by the bookshelf; she let the calm engulf her body and when the erratic thudding of her heart slowed down, she sighed. In here she could forget everyone, everything; these books were her solace; the only thing that seemed to be keeping her from going insane right now. The musky smell of leather binds swirled around her head making her senses throb…_so much silence. _Everything that had happened that morning seemed to have vanished suddenly leaving her with a sense of peace, maybe even tranquillity. All the screaming and shouting; all the eyes and emotions where still there though.

Somewhere in her mind,; though not significant enough for her to bother with at that moment. But nothing really lasted and that was the same for Hermione; something shattered her zombie like state violently, leaving her in shock and when she looked around the aisle from her seat on the carpeted floor she saw nothing, only herself.

Frustration began to pile itself back on, but she ignored it and leaned once more back against the bookshelf, closing her eyes, she let out a deep breath. It was still there the _thing _that had caused her to remember that she was still in reality. A deep sense of loss filled her them-but what had she lost…a_ mother?_ No she had parents that loved her. Then what was it? _Your life…the one that was meant to be yours; yourself…_she had a life; she was Hermione Granger daughter to Janette and Matthew Granger, she had a life, she was her. Even though an evil little voice in her head told her it wasn't so. She shook herself then glared at a dirty looking book covered in tattered brown leather.

Her glare disappeared suddenly as she spotted something wedged between two giant books on Occulemcy; she peered harder, only making out a dull white glow that began to pulse brighter as she continued to stare; then it faded, just as suddenly as it had appeared.

Frowning at herself, Hermione pulled herself up from her comfortable seat on the floor and moved slowly towards where the light had been. Cautiously she stepped closer, pulling her wand out of her robe just in case it was some Slytherin trying to jinx her. (A/n: well it's possible, ain't it?) She poked suspiciously with her wand then carefully pushed back the fat leather bound volumes until there was a big enough space for her to see the source of the weird light.

A beautiful translucent sphere; the size of a small child's fist, hovered an inch or two off the oaken bookshelf. She blinked and then rubbed her eyes as if to rub away the image; but it stayed rotating while it hovered in mid air. Hermione reached out a hand gingerly to touch it and to her surprise it was solid. She cocked her head to one side and studied it more carefully.

Coloured a dull pale blue; with delicate looking runes etched in burgundy it looked ethereal in the dim light of the aisle. She touched it again, cupping it in her hands; it felt cool against her flustered skin. Once more being ever so careful she ran her index finger across one of the runes and as she did so a little electric spark shot through her spine making her jump in surprise. It began to glow again, ever so pale was the light, and once again her curious side showed itself. Somehow it was pulsing…_beating_ almost; like it was being supplied with energy … a light bulb; flick the switch and voila…light.

_Footsteps…_some one was coming towards her…she could feel them coming, closer; but it wasn't friendly either. She shook herself mentally, there was no way she could know that…she couldn't _sense_ things. Just to be on the safe side, she carefully laid the still rotating sphere back where she had found and vowing to come back for it when she didn't have any so called _bad company_. She rearranged the drab looking volumes so they would completely obscure the sphere.

Then _it _came. The _thing_ she thought she had felt; he was standing right behind her, radiating menacing energy.

"My, my, what do we have here?"

Hey this chapter is dedicated to my inspiration and bestest of friends: Frosti, thanks so much for the review, I really appreciated it!!!!

Be By friends till the next chapter

P.S Review, review, review!!! Even if its criticism, I don't mind…though keep in mind this is my first ever attempt at writing a fan fic!!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N no more bloody disclaimers!

Chapter 3

_Footsteps…_some one was coming towards her…she could feel them coming, closer; and it wasn't friendly. She shook herself mentally, there was no way she could know that…she couldn't sense _things_. Just to be on the safe side, she carefully laid the still rotating sphere back where she had found it and vowing to come back for it when she didn't have any so called _bad company_, she rearranged the drab looking volumes so they would completely obscure the sphere.

Then _it _came. The _thing_ she thought she had felt; _he_ was standing right behind her, radiating menacing energy.

"My, my, what do we have here?"

She sucked in a breath and dared not turn round to see who it was. _Malfoy__?_ No it wasn't. Malfoy would have been halfway through a volley of insults by now. She needn't wait no longer as the intruder announced himself.

"Ms. Granger…even though I have only been present in this school for a mere three days I know that no pupil is to be in this section of the library unless that said pupil has been allotted permission by a superior…"

She turned around for the second time that day to come face to face with Professor Yaji. Hermione blew out through her teeth silently; already she could feel a black anger boiling up inside her.

"So… Ms Granger, answer my question."

"And what question was that sir?" She forced an innocent smile to appear on her face.

Yaji gave her another one of his icy stares. _If he looks at me like that one more time I might really give into the temptation of cursing him. _ Instead she shot him a dirty look. Yaji raised an eyebrow at her and then smirked.

"As the new Head Girl Ms Granger I expected more from you…" he was silent for a few milliseconds. "…So be it; I believe I have the power of assigning punishments to pupils breaking school regulations."

Hermione stared at him then, all traces of malicious anger squeezed out of her body, neutral once more. "H…H...Head Girl…" she stuttered. When had she become Head Girl; weren't they still having trouble deciding. She shouldn't be surprised she reasoned; it was bound to happen sooner or later, and a detention was no way to mark her new position as Head Girl.

"Stop gaping like a fish Ms Granger as this game of physic the teacher is really tiring me out." He stared at her once more before saying "And I do believe it will be a double detention" He gave her another cold look then swept out of the aisle as silently as he had come.

Head Girl…She was THE Head Girl; then who was the Head Boy? Harry? Well she would have to find out wouldn't she? Forgetting her recent encounter with Professor Yaji and the hovering Sphere she rushed out of the library earning a scolding from Madam Pince as she went.

In a dank room somewhere in the Hogwarts grounds, three professors and the headmaster of Hogwarts sat around an old willow table with mugs of hot chocolate in hand. Dumbledore smiled at his professors from his seat at the head of the crooked table. Snape wore his usual irritated scowl and having refused the mug of hot chocolate offered to him by Dumbledore he sat erect and absolutely immobile.

"Albus?" whispered McGonagall. It was enough this had to be a secret meeting but in this damp and grimy room deep inside Hogwarts was enough to put her off from ever attending any secret meetings in her life.

"Yes, Minerva I know we may be putting the life of one of our most valuable student at risk; maybe even the entire student body." Answered Dumbledore.

"Albus, can't you see were this is all leading. Even Poppy and Serverus agree with me."

"Minerva, no worries. None can tell only time."

Colour rose to McGonagall's cheeks; how could he stand back and let this happen?

Snape rose from his seat stiffly. "If Dumbledore believes there is no imminent danger to us all then I have no worries; Ms Granger…and Yaji; I feel that any further contact with him will give us something to worry about, after all the man is immune to most magical curses and even my potions."

Poppy having been quiet throughout the hearty exchange decided it was time to voice her thoughts.

"Now Albus I must agree with Severus; _that _man give me a very funny feeling and it's not a good funny feeling either."

Dumbledore pressed his two index fingers together and assumed a thoughtful pose. He shut his eyes and breathed out, then slowly opened them and peered at his professors over his half moon spectacles. A mischievous smile graced his lined face.

"My dear colleagues I know how much you take the welfare of Hogwarts and its present tenants seriously and I cannot deny you that, but be patient sometimes the best solution to one problem is taken in the smallest action…"

"Small! Dumbledore we can't think small! Not in a situation such as this!" whispered Minerva even though their current classroom was deserted.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows slightly and smiled at her. "Be patient… sometimes the smallest act can and will make a difference."

She skidded to a stop at the entrance to the Griffindor common room, putting a hand to her furious heart.

"Meta…mor…phus…" she panted

The Fat Lady frowned at her and gave her a sceptical look, and then as if not finding what she had been looking for, she let her through.

Harry and Ron sat over a friendly game of chess, totally oblivious to the chaos around them. Hermione seeing the state of the common room clucked her tongue and set about trying to squeeze herself through a maze of hot and sweaty Griffindor bodies.

"Eric! Here." A squat first year threw some white powder into the blazing fire causing it to lift its fiery body into the air and take on the shape of a horse. Golden flames billowed around its stout body, glazed eyes of molten blackness peered at the room. It shook its brilliant mane of fire and snorted a few puffs of steam before deciding to leap out of its confines, onto the plush velvet carpet. Hermione's eyes widened in horror as she saw the carpet burn beneath the flaming hooves.

"Abomination!" Someone shouted, and with the shout came thick silence. Harry and Ron where at their feet, fire dancing in their eyes; wands held out before them. _Abomination, _it was the name of the fire born stallion standing before them all. _Abomination,_ someone whispered in the gathered crowd. Abomination trotted forwards, leaving smouldering carpet in its trail, for Abomination trotted forwards heating the air around it into a scalding storm of energy, and as Abomination trotted forwards, witches and wizards jumped out of its way. Hermione watched fascinated by the mystic creature whereas a few moments ago she had been horrified. Energy exploded around it and cackled against its body. Such an enticing creature as this was now standing before her, tossing its fiery mane and snorting scalding steam into her face. She smiled clumsily lost in the bottomless pits that were its eyes…and then there was thunder. Frightened cries rang throughout the common room, no one could get out and no one could get in, for Hermione had her back towards the opening; well that is except for Andréa Sheffield; a tiny second year Griffindor. Who scrambled helplessly at the opening to haven. She stumbled out through the portrait, blinking a long amber fringe out of her eyes.

Harry and Ron dashed towards her. Wands held out before them running so fast they were practically tripping over the bodies of fellow house mates, jostling through the frantic students they finally managed to reach her. Abomination stood before her magnificent as its name; both boys stopped in their tracks. Their plan had been to save her and nothing more; not how to save her form the jaws of the beast itself; no not as complicated as that, but just to save her. In their moment of hesitation the portrait hole swung open and crashed loudly against the common room, loud enough to gain some attention. The figure of Dumbledore and McGonagall silhouetted by the corridor light seemed to bring sanity to the Griffindors and all quieted down, all except a few who caught their breath at the stolid form of Abomination snorting and glaring almost passionately into Hermione's eyes.

"Oh…my…" whispered McGonagall, her eyes wide with shock and _fear?_

"…Yes…oh my…" whispered an equally shocked Dombledore. Little Andréa Sheffield cowered behind them both; but before either of them could do anything more. Abomination whipped its muscular neck to one side and moved so quickly that one moment it was there and the next it was gone and the only way one would have known it had stood there but a moment ago, would be from the sour and acrid smell of burnt plastic that clung in the air like air freshener.

Hermione blinked, once then twice before being crushed into the burly bodies of her best mates. She blinked again. What in the world was going on?

_She sat high upon her mighty throne and gazed down at her loyal followers. Not with scorn or with compassion. Her pale colourless eyes glittered like diamonds, as she sat on that mighty throne of hers. Somewhere in the distance came the sharp echo of footsteps on the marble floor, but apart from that the throne room was silent, no one dared to make any sound that might gain them the young __Queens__ displeasure. For her consort had just perished, leaving her child fatherless and her own heart broken. _

_The footsteps approached, the sound of metal heels crashing against the smooth surface of the marble tiles seemed unnerving for the straight-backed guards by the door. _

_ A black cape swept into the room, the face hidden by its thick hood; the silence deepened, here entered the murderer; here stood an elite of the Kardeshian army; a betrayer…_

Her eyes snapped open suddenly, but what met her gaze was more terrifying than the little drama that had unfolded in her mind; this was darkness, pure and utterly black; and it was waiting to steal her away to the Land of Shadows. She squeezed her eyes shut. Darkness did not belong here.

Harry gave her a weird look, it was Saturday morning but she wasn't grumpy today.

Guess it was one of those girl things… He shoved a piece of pancake in his mouth, getting syrup on his chin. Ginny giggled with a mouthful of cereal, miraculously managing not to gag and choke on it. He grinned at her and then motioned to Hermione who was attacking her breakfast with a passion they only saw in a classroom. Ginny smiled back at him; then wiggled her eyebrows at Ron, who for today had sat next to Ginny and opposite Hermione. Harry almost spat out what he was eating and managed to smother a snort by bending closer to his stack of pancakes.

Ronald Weasly sat totally immobile, mouth hanging wide open and stared with absolute amazement at Hermione. He'd never seen her eat so much so fast. At the sound of Harry's almost disguised snort he snapped his jaw shut and stared down at his own breakfast, which was only half eaten.

Hermione lugged down a stack of pancakes and a bowl of cereal, two goblets full of pumpkin juice and sat back, laying down the cutlery as she did so. She; herself was amazed at her own appetite. Ron stared at her again for what seemed like the hundredth time since she'd began eating so lavishly. "What?" she snapped at him suddenly annoyed. "Haven't you ever seen someone eat before?"

"'Course we have; it's just that we've never seen you eat like that before." Said Harry.

"That's right! No wonder you're so thin Hermione; you practically never eat anything at breakfast lunch or dinner." Ginny chimed in.

"Bloody right! These last few days you haven't eaten anything." This last remark came from the temporarily muted Ron.

Hermione lowered her eyes at him, what would he know; the man who thinks eating a plateful of food is the same as eating nothing. She sighed and patted Ron's hand.

"Look I know I haven't been very receptive lately," she was interrupted by a murmur of "Major understatement…" from Ginny but carried on nonetheless. "But I've got my reasons for behaving the way I did and please, please don't be mad at me for it."

Harry put a hand on her shoulder. "Maybe you could tell us about it sometime?"

She smiled at maybe. Maybe?

Ginny, feeling left out, decided on announcing a group hug over the table but did not get a chance to make a sound when Dumbledore rose from his seat at the head of the table; commanding silence as he straightened his posture. A warm smile etched itself into his worn features and then he spoke.

"My dear students; the first week of the term has passed and as time goes by so will the next and the next just as quickly." He paused and rested his gaze knowingly on Hermione. "Old barriers shall be torn down and new ones built but for now please keep explosives to a minimum." He chuckled, and laughter spread throughput the hall.

"Yesterday we announced the Head Boy and Girl and unfortunately our Head Girl was missing during our announcement…so I would like to present to you again this years Head Girl, Ms Hermione Granger and our Head Boy, Mr Draco Malfoy."

Thundering claps arose from the Griffindor table and equally passionate clapping form the Slytherins.

"Ms Granger…" Dumbledore motioned her forwards. Harry gently pushed her towards the staff table, she frowned at him but he just shrugged and grinned at her. Finally she strode towards Dumbledore and arrived at his side only to meet the mocking gaze of Malfoy.

"So very glad you could join us." Dumbledore whispered in her ear and placed a hand on her shoulder. Malfoy just ignored her, as if noticing Hermione was a waste of his energy he, focused his gaze on the Slytherin table. She ignored his blatant rudeness, smiling all the while. "You may go back to your tables." Whispered Dumbledore and lightly pushed them forwards.

Malfoy shot her a haughty look before departing to be with his fellow Slytherins…

Hermione was greeted with the noisy cheer of the Griffindors, Ginny grinned at her then proceeded to finish the rest of her breakfast. Ron pulled her suddenly into a bear hug; making some of the Griffindors laugh, but Neville stayed silent, staring down at his syrup covered pancakes.

Hermione sat in Dumbledore's office, twisting a strand of hazel nut-brown hair between her fingers nervously. After the hearty celebrations had ended, a snow-white school owl had landed on her shoulder and opened its pale yellow beak to release the treasure it carried. Upon reading the note, she had raced up to the Griffindor common room and into her dorm room; changed into some casual but smart dress, donned her black school robe and raced past a bewildered Harry and Ron clutching the note in her hand. She had almost been late. Almost that is and Malfoy was nowhere in sight. Dumbledore sat patiently in his armchair; sucking on a lemon drop and watching Ms Granger fidget in her seat.

Hermione crushed the note in her hand, then smoothed it out over her lap and crushed it in her fist again. Dumbledore cleared his throat noisily to get her attention and at that exact moment a flustered Malfoy walked into the office and collapsed into the comfy armchair adjacent Hermione's. She ignored him… as simple as that, but Dumbeledore cleared his throat once more. Her head shot up to gaze at him questioningly. He smiled sweetly, mischievously at her.

Dumbledore averted his gaze to rest on Malfoy's heavily flushed features. Malfoy glanced at him through his thick black eyelashes, the movement lazy and slow. Maybe Malfoy had had a rough time at Quiditch practice…but if he had had Quiditch practice it would have been before breakfast…Hermione glances at him suspiciously and once again Dumbledore cleared his throat to get their attention. She let the matter go, for now; he was a Malfoy wasn't he? It was just typical of someone like him to make people wait.

Dumbledore pushed up his half-moon spectacles that were slipping quite slowly down his nose. He cleared his throat again and the office was suddenly filled a soothing breeze, reaching out and wrapping ghost like fingers around Hermione. She closed her eyes and breathed out through her nose. Even though the energy sent towards her was soothing it was still unnerving. Malfoy didn't seem to notice the breeze, but if he did he didn't show it. Dumbledore sat up straight in his armchair and just as suddenly as the breeze had appeared it had disappered. What the hell was going on around here?

"Ms. Granger…Mr. Malfoy. I am very glad you could join me on such short notice."

He said each word carefully and as clearly as possible, as if he were talking to a child; no, make it children. Something is definitely wrong. Thought Hermione, she peered at him closely and even the Malfoy sat up straight and stared at Dumbledore with carefully expressionless eyes.

"As you both know, the position of Head Boy and Girl requires the fulfilment of many duties. You both will be required to carry out these duties accordingly. Again I suspect you know that as Head Boy and Girl you will have the power to deduct house points and vise versa, with that comes the power to hand out detentions, but all detentions must be reported to the Head of the student's house. Understand that I expect neither of you to abuse your status or it will be striped away from you."

He sighed and watched them carefully over his half-moon spectacles.

"Having said that, I thought I'd give you both a head start in planning Hogwart's first event…no Mr. Malfoy it's not anything to do with Quiditch I'm afraid."

Malfoy shut his mouth and threw a speculating look Dumbledore's way. Hermione kept silent and rigid in her seat, eyes pinned on the Head Master.

"Now, where were we? Ah…yes. This is the first time I have mentioned my idea to anyone, and I am hoping greatly that with to able young minds such as yours…"

Malfoy and Hermione glared at eachother, Malfoy snorted, sitting up straighter and folding his arms across his chest.

"…That is, if you both can put your vast differences aside and work together for the duration of the year."

Did he just say 'duration of the year'? She couldn't be civilised with Malfoy; never. The idea was just too preposterous for words. What was Dumbledore playing at?

If he wanted an internal war to break out in Hogwarts this was exactly the way to go. It was not that she would find a way to start one; no it would more likely be narrow-minded Ron to cause an inter-house war when there was already major hostily between Griffindor and Slytherin. No it would certainly not do and that meant she had to try to behave.

"Ms. Granger…truly sorry to interrupt you but as I was saying to Mr. Malfoy; I would like you both to review the timetables for all years and plan out a schedule with Professor Yaji."

With Professor Yaji? She must have blanked out the world for more than a few seconds as she missed what it was they had to plan with Professor Yaji. Dumbledore smiled at her and popped a lemon drop in his mouth. He then offered her and Malfoy one but they declined.

"…And, Ms. Granger, if you are confused…" He smiled innocently…innocently?

"I am quite sure Mr. Malfoy here will explain." He was still smiling.

By now Malfoy was standing tall and straight, his face devoid of any obvious emotion. He turned and stalked out of the Head Master's office. Hermione sent Dumbledore a curious look, but didn't move from her seat. She sighed and pushed herself up, using her momentum to balance herself on her two feet.

"Thank you sir…" She dragged herself towards the oaken door, gripping the doorknob tightly before pulling it open.

"Hermione…Know that I an always here…" Whispered Dumbledore, ever so quietly, but she heard him somehow, for she stopped in her tracks to turn towards him, with a question in her eyes.

He smiled at her as before, though she caught wisps of concern and worry behind the sparkle of false merriment.

"I suggest you hurry, Ms. Granger before you lose our young Malfoy."

She nodded her head in acknowledgement and left with no intention what so ever of going after Malfoy. It would certainly amuse him to have her trailing after him like an obsessed house-elf. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

A/N: I'll have you know this is just a filler chapter; things are going to get more interesting in the next chapter. Read it? Then review. See that button right there.

(Look to arrow for guidance if needed.) I know it's not a big shiny red button, but it's still a button.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I do not own HP….

A/N: Sorry gyphscee….I know I have taken very…very long, but school work is always a priority… and anyway I had to revise for my exams and worry about my exams and finish all my essays, my friend the list is long and its only just started! And…wait I had this upsetting writers block, instead of getting more ideas for this story, I just started thinking about something totally different but, hurrah I have been inspired!

Now on with the show

Chapter 4

Dumbledore watched the oak door fall back on its hinges and creak slowly shut. He watched the retreating silhouette of Hermione Granger disappear behind the door. Creak…it went; an irritating noise that filled the listener with shudders. He would have to get a house elf to look to it later, but first he would have to curse himself for his utter stupidity. He had been warned on several occasions, yet had not listened; he had been warned and had chosen to ignore the warnings just to satisfy his own curiosity. Old fool that he was…truly old…

He sighed nonchalantly and snatched his damned spectacles off his nose, they had begun slipping again…he placed them on top of his worn desk. Smooth ruts had been worn into its surface, scratches made by quills that were surely much older than Dumbledore himself; but it gleamed, a soft honey brown with highlights of rich auburn shinning faintly in the morning sunlight. How old he felt today; how foolish. He squeezed the bridge of his nose and sighed once more.

Throwing energy at her like that; trying to test her strength when he knew the dangers it could have caused if he had not retreated so quickly after sensing, no, _tasting_ that inkling of darkness; though it had been hidden so deep in her being. Snape had been right to assume that she could be a danger. She _could _be a danger. He sighed once more; his errors would have to be corrected. Hermione needed to feel safe and if she could not feel safe, she must know comfort.The portraits sent him questioning looks and threw glances between, grave times were coming and again it was up to Dumbledore and Hogwarts to hold its ground.

"No worries my friends, it is time…"He felt a faint spark of energy somewhere in the distance. Indeed it was time, time for her true awakening.

He was keeping secrets, she could feel it in her bones; it was an odd feeling, to know she was being kept in the dark, but he was keeping secrets from her and she didn't like it at all. That is the one thought that pulsed through her mind, as she clattered noisily down the corridor. She was like the blind and in many ways unlike the blind. Her feet led her down a familiar path, but her eyes where unseeing. Frantic thoughts raced through her head, questions like: what is he hiding? Why? What could be so terrible that he would keep it a secret from her? She trusted Dumbledore, but why was he doing this? He would probably never answer her questions, however there was a more important matter at hand; finding out what Dumbledore had said to Malfoy. That would be her number one priority for the day; she came to a sudden stop that ripped her out of her wandering thoughts. She stood silent, before the aged doors of Hogwart's library for a moment before entering. The reception welcomed her, and Hermione was hit in the senses by the strong smell of old leather and fresh paper; she inhaled the musky scent of library through her nose and felt a sudden urgent need to wrap the comforting smell of library around her like you would do with a blanket. This truly was her haven, but she did not need a safe haven at that moment, no, she had come for something else; though she could not remember. The books on the shelf beckoned to her, books full of glorious knowledge, of magic. She blinked, what was wrong with her today? Why could she not concentrate? She took a deep breath, meaning to clear her senses and at that exact moment, she spotted a thick mop of white blond hair, in the far side of the library. She literally chocked on the air in her throat, a wheezing sound escaped between her lips before she could stop herself and the blond head turned towards her. She ducked but not before the blond spotted her. Hermione cursed herself, but there was always the possibility that he may not have spotted her from where he was standing, then again maybe not. She cursed herself again; as she had finally remembered what it was she had originally come for, the sphere.

The sphere, it was waiting ever so patiently for her, but she could not risk it being discovered by Malfoy; therefore, the sphere would have to wait. Hadn't she made finding out what she had missed during the meeting a priority, and anyways, Malfoy could be scheming up a way to get credit for whatever it was they were supposed to do. The unmistakeable shimmering presence of Malfoy stood behind her back. What in the world was wrong with her? She had clearly spaced out again, and let her guard down, enough so that Mlafoy could creep up behind her without noticing him in the last minute, when it was all over.

Malfoy stared at her head, he saw through emotionless eyes her body tense and stiffen abruptly, enough to make her jerk, as if, as if , she had felt his aura slam into her body, like a metaphysical slap. A stray wisp of surprise passed through his eyes, though the slight flicker of emotion disappeared as soon as Hermione turned stiffly to face him.

He sneered at her. "Granger, I cannot stand your presence either, but if we are to work together for the commencing year, I suggest that you learn to get a hold on your emotions, this display is utterly unnecessary."

She glared at him through half closed eyes. He just loved to taunt and provoke. She stayed silent and intensified her glare as if looks could kill, and if this had been true, Malfoy would have disintegrated into dust long ago. She released the painful knot of tension in her shoulder through an angry hiss between her teeth.

"Well, maybe it's because you lack certain humanoid emotions, Malfoy." She retorted vehemently.

Malfoy was unfazed by the stinging comment, and continued to gaze upon her as one would do on a child. She sucked in a deep breath, he was the only one who could tell her what Dumbledore wanted them to do, apart from Dumbledore himself; and she was not likely to stand before Dumbledore after what she had discovered. She sighed and unclenched the fists she had unknowingly formed at her sides. Maybe Malfoy was right. However she never had a problem with her emotions until recently.

She began to regain her lost composure, slowly, staring at her shoes as she did so. Malfoy waited patiently in front of her, studying her curiously. After a few minutes of deep breathing exercises, she lifted her gaze off her feet to look calmly on Malfoy's statue like face.

"Look Malfoy, I don't like you, you don't like me…"

"And you've just figured that out now, bravo Granger" he interrupted

Hermione narrowed her eyes and continued. "Malfoy, just tell me what _Dumbledore _wants_ us_ to do"

At that moment Madam Pince breezed through the library towards them on a wind of rage, her face flushed to a dainty rose red and eyes ablaze. She reached her victims, whispering words angrily. Scolding them both with her hot tongue lashing out at them, Hermione stared gob smacked. Never in her life had she seen Madam Pince so angry. On and on the Librarian scolded them, hissing her disappointment in them both, after all they were the Head Girl and Boy, it was up to them to set an example to their fellow students. Finally the angry librarian whispered threateningly. "I am especially disappointed in you Ms. Granger, I expected better. The library is not a place for childish comments to be exchanged, if so I will be glad to find some place were you can both work out your differences, however long it may be." And left an awed Hermione staring after her

"Wow…" she breathed, never in her life had she seen Madam Pince so angry.

However Malfoy was currently striding towards a table hidden by a large book shelf on the far west of the spacious library. Regaining some of her senses after the shocking display of emotion she managed to move gracefully in the same direction as Malfoy, the sooner he enlightened her with the fascinating knowledge of his; the quicker she could get away from him, for now at least. When she reached the table Malfoy was occupying, she grabbed a chair, jerked it from its resting place and fell into it; just as Malfoy had done when he walked into Dumbledore's office. Even thinking his name sent a wave of unhappiness through her, to shine faintly through her eyes. Malfoy noticed, though, he kept silent.

"Granger…" he said "listen, I won't tolerate you fazing out while I'm talking."

"Well then Malfoy, you listen, I don't give a damn about what you tolerate or not, just tell me what I need to know then we can go our separate ways!" Hermione hissed at him. It was amazing how anger seemed to help her concentrate…

Malfoy looked her straight in the eyes, noticing how her brown eyes seemed to sparkling with a dangerous light. He had known Granger for seven years now, and he had never seen her lose her composure and let her emotions run away with her so quickly; even when she was dealing with him, well that is except for that incident in third year. He gazed at her through his winter eyes as if trying to see her and beyond with just one bat of an eye lid. Yes he did want to get away from her as soon as possible but not until he had a little time to analyse this sudden change of rhythm.

"Fine Granger." He said, leaning back into his chair like someone would recline in a sofa, though it was a straight backed, ordinary wooden chair he managed to make it look as if he was sitting comfortably, looking on Hermione with the lazy eyes of a well fed cat.

The odd look made her shudder inwardly, but her steady gaze never left his face.

"As you know you are the Head Girl and I am the Head Boy"

"And…." She interrupted

"And, Granger, we have yet to see our new accommodation," she interrupted again before he could finish his sentence.

"Are you telling me that that's all he told you?" she asked quizzically

"My God, Granger! Can't you let a man finish what he started; I'd have thought you were brought up with manners. Then again you are a mudblood." He snarled menacingly

"Oh…shut up Malfoy and tell me what else Dumbledore said."

He glared at her, "Maybe I shouldn't tell you Granger."

"If you don't I'll just plead ignorance to the jury"

"I didn't think you were one to admit ignorance when you're considered a Know-it-all"

"Malfoy, I'll ask nicely because I can't stand your presence any longer, will you _please_ just tell me what the Headmaster said; there happy?"

"Certainly not Granger, but you are right" Hermione arched an eyebrow at him.

"Being in the presence of one such as I can be more or so overwhelming"

Hermione opened her mouth to reply with a stinging retort, when he happened to beat her first.

"Granger, this is getting rather tiresome and I have a Potions project to work on so let's get this over and done with…no Granger, don't interrupt me. As I was saying, Dumbledore wants _us, _Granger, to work with Professor Yaji, to devise a schedule for the self-defence lesson, which all years will partake in."

Hermione stared at him shocked, Yaji, self-defence? What was this disease that was going around the school? She shook her head, to try and clear her thoughts and come up with enough sense to form coherent sentences.

"When…when do we go see him?"

"Don't you mean why Granger?" Hermione shook her head

"When? Tomorrow, after breakfast…We meet Dumbledore today after lunch, any more questions you'd like to ask?"

"No."

Malfoy, stayed where he was, Hermione looked at him, puzzlement clearly etched into her features._ Shouldn't he be leaving? _She thought, he had, after all answered all her questions; only the questions he could answer. Many others were still yet to be resolved but '_Beag__ air Bheag'; 'little by little'; _she would uncover those mysteries still to be solved. Malfoy, stayed as lifeless as the dead, misty grey eyes, chalk white face turned towards her.

"What Malfoy?" she questioned, letting a note of irritation drip into her voice.

Malfoy watched her, a predatory spark gleaming in his eyes. "My, my, Granger; Maybe you have lost some of your wits over the summer?" he taunted her, never letting his gaze stray from her face. There was no way, she would lose her cool. Not to Malfoy when she had already done it once; no, it was a personal rule of hers to never hold grudges against anyone, even if that anyone was Malfoy. The emotional frustration was just a wasted use of valuable energy, which could be put to other resources. She sat up straighter in her chair and this time, she was the one looking down on the reclining Malfoy.

"Malfoy, there ought to be a few layers of bookshelves between us or have you already decided on a truce." She retorted, keeping her voice sounding naturally curious.

"Granger" he said "we unfortunately are in the same potions class, and would happen to be in a rather sticky predicament." Hermione arched an eyebrow at him, mentally encouraging him to continue. He looked at her under a thick lattice of sooty black eyelashes and unconsciously relaxed further into the chair, however impossible it seemed; and said.

"_We_ both know that Parkinson is incapable of assisting further progress on the project, _and…" _he stressed the word and, sighing softly at the end. "That; would therefore mean, that, _we_ _will_ have to work _together_ if we want to get a decent mark." He closed his eyes when he finished, his eyes lashes decorating the tops of his cheeks, where solid sharp cheekbones protruded gently and a sharp straight nose sat above moist pink lips. He looked almost ethereal, surrounded in a halo of golden sunlight. Hermione observed him quietly, through narrowed eyes, looking for any faults in the beautiful image he had painted for her.

"Draco Malfoy of Slytherin, are you suggesting we work on potions now, here, together?"

"Granger" he sighed "Really, why ask such an idiotic question, I am not suggesting, I am merely pointing out the obvious opportunity to use our time wisely, in the case of potions. Furthermore, as we are already in the library, we might as well begin the assignment." By this time his eyes had opened, he sat straight in his chair, mirroring Hermione's pose.

She scowled at him, _what was he up to? _Other than that he was perfectly right; though it was not like Malfoy to not make a fuss about their unfortunate situation, therefore this must mean he had grown more mature since their last encounter. But still, what could he be up to? It was not prejudice against Malfoy, rather she had known him for seven years now and had learnt that Malfoys never do or say anything without a greater motive behind them. Draco Malfoy stared down at her, his eyes carefully blank as always, eerie winter light shone on his face making him look sinister. She blinked then looked at him again, when had he become so patient? Maybe there were things that she did not really know about the _enemy_, and she would keep it that way until, the enemy initiated prior searches. The calm mask over Malfoy's face stayed fixed and distant, however he raged on the inside. He had not time for this idle waiting, either they begin now or never! The Dark Lord was waiting himself, for the young Malfoy's answer, and if he was kept waiting too long who knew what would happen. _Well, let me rephrase that_ he thought, he knew what would happen and it definitely wouldn't be pretty.

Hermione herself felt agitated. In the back of her mind the delicately crafted sphere drifted aimlessly; if she agreed to this then the sphere would have to wait another day; and curiosity had begin to distract her like an irritating itch. "Fine" she breathed lowering her eyes. The itch would have to wait at least until she found a private place to scratch at it like mad. Malfoy's immobility was shattered with a condescending arch of a frosty eyebrow.

He stretched his feet underneath the table after Hermione had jumped out of her chair to go search for a book, though he knew it was just an excuse to get away from him as quickly as possible. His reputation would not be ruined if he was caught with the rabbit like Granger; nothing could stain his prized reputation not even the fact that his father was in Azkaban, _was…_ now no one really knows where his father is, neither does he. The mystery seemed to add to his fame. He had learned over the years that with patience he would most certainly stay on task, as he had been gifted by his bloodline, unfortunately The Dark Lord knew this even if his father didn't and that is why he had chosen Draco; not the malicious Luscious. It was all very sad really, his father, the high and mighty Malfoy, nothing but a court jester for something greater then he, and even sadder, he doesn't even know his death is standing beside him, gazing at him with as much infatuation as only a lover would gaze upon their love with.

Hermione searched throughout the aisle on Potions, not even coming across something similar to a bonding potion; well they had found the recipe for the polyjuice potion in the Restricted Section…sooooooo…it would a good excuse to look for her sphere. _Her _sphere when had the magic ball become hers? She still had to find out what it was and what it was for; still it was a good opportunity for her to smuggle the sphere out of the library along with the potions books; though she mustn't be too hasty. She reminded herself, and there was the matter of Yaji. She gave up searching the damned book, knowing that the only place she'd find it would be in the Restricted Section and walked back to the seated Malfoy. She stayed standing when she reached him, noticing the slightly dazed look in his eyes, then he glared. She rolled her eyes at him and sighed.

"Malfoy, it looks like we are going to have to get permission from Sna…Professor Snape to get the book from the restricted section…" she breathed, eyeing him suspiciously.

He scowled at her, and said in his most irritating drawl. "_If, _you had but waited a moment, I would have told you that we would not find it outside the Restricted Section, but if you had had your wits about you, you would have not wasted time wondering about like an imbecile."

Mock happiness lit up Hermione's face and a sarcastic smile curved her lips, her eyes twinkled dangerously; and at that moment Draco Malfoy glimpsed the demon that lay sleeping inside her, however it was not sleeping any more.

"Malfoy, if this truce is going to work, then it should extend to everything, every subject, every time we have to work together." She hissed at him angrily, she sucked in a deep breath; her emotions were getting out of control again.

Malfoy watched, amazed, though he didn't show it. He, Malfoy, was currently watching an emotional Hermione Granger trying to control her emotions. He remembered third year again, when she…slapped him. He watched her take a deep raking breath, then the hiss of air being forced out of her lungs. He saw her fists clenched at her sides, trembling slightly. This was so out of character for Hermione, even if he didn't happen to be the Weasel or Scar Face. He watched amused, a slight smirk threatening to curl his lips.

Hermione closed her eyes, what the hell was happening? This wasn't normal. A strong wave of rage threatened to bow her spine, but she twitched instead, never had she felt like this, it wasn't normal, it wasn't her; breathing was becoming painful, and violent images flooded her mind. Images of Malfoy, horribly mutilated. She gasped, the wave of powerful rage washed over again and she twitched. A violent need built in the bottom of her stomach, making her clench her teeth; making her draw blood from her body, from her hand, her lips, her eyes…

That's when Malfoy noticed that something was wrong, her eyelids were flashing a pale shade of bloody red, all the while a steady trickle of red liquid dripped down her chin and down her hands. _She's having some sort of seizure _he thought, but realised he was wrong when he saw or rather felt the rapid build up of violent energy swirling around her body, riding through her, making her twitch with either pain or pleasure; and from the look of it, it was the latter. He felt the climactic build up of energy overpowering Hermione, coaxing her into surrender and then a horrendous release, aimed at him. His eyes widened and instinctively he flung himself from his chair and flattened himself against the ground, the wave of energy washed over his back, then slammed head on into the table that had previously occupied them both.

As soon as she made contact with the table, she seemed to wake up from the drugged sleep she had been, everything still hazy and soft, but she watched; intoxicated from the rush of power, from the surrender; watched the table and chair swiped up into the air and frozen in place. She saw through a vision surrounded by golden halos, Malfoy lying flat on his stomach with his hand protecting his head. In the surreal dream world, a hand was raised and the table and chair were slapped against the window directly opposite them; shattering the glass noisily and flung outside into the crowd of deliriously happy Hogwarts students.

Every Professor in Hogwarts felt the violent torrent of energy, sweep through the school, shattering windows, cracking cauldrons, breaking vials, plates, cups and slamming tables and chairs, books and stationary against the walls. Rage swept into the school ground but never really made it very far; as mother earth wrapped herself about Rage and pulled him into her deadly embrace. The energy slowly faded across the school grounds, none of the students outside felt it at all; just the pleasurable breeze that played across their skin as the last of the energy faded. Hogwarts was in chaos, the library looked like a war had taken place inside it, with rows upon rows or bookshelves plastered against each other like giant sandwiches and book scattered everywhere. A little opalescent sphere twirled rapidly amidst the destruction; glowing a fierce blue; the runes looked like bleeding wounds, but everyone was alive.

That's when the screaming started.

A/N: see…sorry again for all those who waited patiently. In the end after so much strife I finished…don't be expecting the fifth chapter anytime soon…I'm gonna be busy with Work Exp. Unfortunately I've got coursework waiting for me. Tell me if I have any mistakes!

REVIEW!!!!!!PRESS THAT BUTTON!!!!!

Fuzz-out.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The vision lifted itself from her eyes and a tore gasp from her parted lips. It was as if she had been suspended in the beautiful golden light; she finally saw, the destruction, the scattered books and papers, the broken windows. Like white muslin had been lifted from her eyes, she saw all clearly…and heard it all just as clearly. The screams of terror from out side, horrified, she walked slowly towards the shattered window, to further gaze at her destruction. Was she capable of harnessing such inhuman power in her slight frame? She only had to look around her to answer the question.

Malfoy rose slowly from his protective position, visibly shaken. He stared up at Hermione with a mixture of awe and fear. All that power had been aimed at him; he had known it the moment he felt her release. But, he was safe, unharmed. A stinging pain rushed along his left arm, from shoulder to fingertips; then the sensations of warm fingers crawling along his entire arm as the pain dulled. He turned his head away from the approaching goddess, to inspect his arm. A large shard of reinforced glass was imbedded in his shoulder, protruding through his collar bone. Trembling fingers strayed to the wound, eyes wide he carefully ran a finger over the sharp point of glass, the size of a pizza wedge. Carefully he tried to slip his arm out of his robes all the while expecting maddening pain to wash over him, but that never happened. He gently tugged the fabric from the glass and let the black robe lie among the pieces of glass and debris.

Hermione walked right past him, oblivious to his wound; she walked towards the window preparing for the destruction she would see. However the screams had stopped and the cool breeze through the ruined window carried memories of relived sighs and magic.

He had not been expecting this; a Kardeshi did not begin ritual awakenings this early. Sprays of black spikes framed his sharp features; his dark eyes bore holes into the Headmaster. They had been like this the moment Hermione had walked into the library. Just sitting and examining each other thoroughly. Regret and guilt spiralled lazily around the older man, weaving little knots of tension around his eyes. Yaji's eyes were fixed firm on the Headmaster's face. _And he is a hero among these earth fools _he sneered inwardly, condescending eyes, burning with black fire.

Dumbledore had summoned him some moments after Hermione Granger had left. His _little mistake _had certainly started off a chain reaction, as Hermione had answered to him, when he had probed her. His _little mistake_ may have cost him a few lives. Yes, the old fool did feel guilty, but he was not to blame, this had been expected sooner or later; just not so soon. Dumbledore heaved a soft sigh, righting his damned spectacles before he raised his gaze to meet the young man's eyes. What he saw in those pits of darkness was not comforting at all, his professors would be arriving at his door at any minute and Yaji's eyes spoke of his defiance to tell, to explain what, how and why this occurred. Oh, yes he could certainly explain the why, but not the 'what' or the how. His own understanding of Hermione's people did not extend that far, after all there was only Hermione herself, and Yaji; if that was even his real name. Varitaserum had no effect on the alien what so ever, which could mean, it had no effect on Hermione either. And what a coincidence it was that he appeared a few days after he, himself had noticed the subtle changes in Hermione. He could not trust this man, even if he seemed to be the only one with answers to his questions.

Yaji watched the guilt disperse slowly, as wisps of mistrust took its place. The old man, however composed he may seem, was like a picture book that displayed its content colourfully. Nearly all his mental shield were down, but he didn't seem to notice; from the first day he had met him, the old man's aura had told him exactly what the old man wanted to hear. So he told him. Well not everything was a lie, certainly not about his heritage or connection to the girl. But everything else was. He had no time for this game to continue, the girl needed attending to and so did any other person that had gotten in the way of her destructive power. Why she awakened so early he would have to research carefully when he was alone; but right now he would have to deal with the old man then get the girl.

Sunlight hit his raven spikes, but his hair seemed to absorb it like a sponge; keeping his profile hidden behind a curtain of hair; though Dumbledore was not sitting to the side of him.

"Mr. Yaji…I have just realised I have not been acquainted with your first name." a small smile twisted the Headmaster's lips, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

Yaji continued his observations, and watched a purple thread of anxiety weave through leaf green mistrust and violet regret. Then suddenly the amusing play of colour were sucked into the Headmaster's robed figure; Yaji's eyes hardened. The old man had finally noticed that his mind was unguarded; and with the realisation he had automatically called up his shields and fixed them firmly in place.

"Dumbledore…" he growled; a thread of white anger laced through that one word. "I hope you don't underestimate my capabilities, the outcome will not, as your people say, be pretty."

Dumbledore raised a greying brow to the young man, questioningly. "I do not underestimate you Yaji; it would be a grave mistake on my part."

"She has come into he true self, you know this as well as I do and she must be taught control before she becomes destructive."

Dumbledore widened eyes at this comment; he had suspected that when she awakened she would be a danger to the student body, but not destructive. Not Hermione. Though she had proven him wrong once, she could always do it again.

"You," said Dumbledore, mentally pointing his finger at Yaji, "said that she would begin ritual awakenings, when she passed her eighteenth summer."

"I said that," he confirmed with a shake of his head, "but you did not tell me she used a time bending contraption during her thirteenth summer, and that would add six moons, two seasons."

"Ah…yes, that must have escaped my mind."

"But it's a good thing your telepathic abilities are so weak." Sneered Yaji viciously.

Dumbledore narrowed his eyes, soft sparks of blue energy prickled over his skin, Yaji was getting more incompetent as time progressed and a man can only have his limits stretched to absurd lengths before he broke the boundaries. That was exactly what Yaji was doing and if he went about the Headmaster the right way, he would be regretting ever underestimating the old man.

"We may not all be as gifted as you are, but we do respect others privacy, whether it be a physical or metaphysical state." He spoke calmly, breathing out a tired sigh, and slumping into his armchair like a man defeated. His eyes narrowed to slits and then slowly shut. Yaji watched the old man slide back into his chair, but he was not defeated, not in the least. He stood up, no longer going to deal with the mess his relation had created, no; he would leave the old fool and his followers to scrape the blood off the floor. Right now he needed to meditate.

It was a gruesome sight to behold, torn flesh clinging to the glass, but it was beautiful in some psychopathic way. The teasing manner in which sunlight was coaxed into a spectrum as it passed through the opaque material, a kaleidoscope of patterns and colours dancing across his thigh. It wasn't so bad on the whole, the glass had severed a couple of nerves in his shoulder, when it sliced through him; as he could no longer feel his left shoulder to finger tips, nor could he move it at all. At least he wasn't in pain, pain was just a distraction, but he knew that other things apart from nerves had been sliced in half. Warm blood had soaked into the white tank top along with other things and it had been a real struggle to just untangle the synthetic from the crudely shaped object jutting through his collar. Now his torn robe and blood soaked tank top sat atop discarded books and debris. He was still bleeding not just from the wound in his shoulder, but from little cuts on his hand and other parts of his body; he'd need help soon, before he died from blood loss.

She stopped inches in front of the shattered window, the screaming had stopped, but only the juvenile looked out side the window after they had thrown an object through it. It was a matter of security, to protect her identity. Surely no one knew who the cause was, and the notion that people may ask _what _the cause was, crossed her mind. What was she? _A monster…_hadn't one of the goals in her life been not to ask stupid questions? Well wasn't that a stupid question. Her body was still in a state of shock, she had been numb for hours it seemed and finally feelings had mercilessly overloaded her senses. Sounds and smells, slapped her wits, clawed their way into her mind and gave her a kick start; a wake up call. Metallic, coopery blood had been spilt from a human body, tickling her senses, making her stomach churn; then the smell of meat, fresh raw meat, worked it way down her throat. Silence flooded her ears like water, enveloping her completely but never blocking out the smells, the sordid smells.

The silence, in her mind echoed through out her being, suffocating the flames that had raged inside her for so long, that had been denied no longer. But she was not to be at peace; yes, she was finally awake, the sweet state of shock lingering in the back of her mind; but now she would have to perceive her destruction. _Her destruction_, it was all her fault and she would have to deal with it, with everything; with Malfoy…

Fear rode through her at the thought of his name, the last time she had saw him he had been sitting with in the chair that was surely outside, she had not seen him when she walked towards the window, but only a moment ago the last remnants of the power had been flushed from her system, and now thinking about it all she was calm. It bothered her, but not as much as it should have. _Blood…_ could Malfoy be hurt? She twisted her neck around so quickly; that her hair flew threw the air to whip her across the face, making her wince. But the pain only helped her focused her slightly fuzzy vision on the bloodied 7th year Slytherin. Her eyes widened. Draco Malfoy was sitting among the destruction, but was touching the torn skin around his wound. His ruined cloths sat in a heap beside him, white blond bangs caressing the top of his shoulder, dancing merrily around the jagged wound. He had his profile to her, his legs underneath him and his hair acting like a shield between him and the rest of the world; an unsightly wound in his shoulder, framed by a backdrop of chaos. Wouldn't you be surprised at his cool calmness?

Hermione didn't move, just stared at him. A slight tightening in her abdominal muscles seemed to draw her attention back to herself. The smell of blood was no longer repulsive but strangely intoxicating; she could practically roll the essence of meat in her mouth, as if it were solid. Now she knew were these beautiful aromas emanated from. Malfoy. So vulnerable, totally defenceless, just waiting for her to come and taste his sweet blood; to test whether it is as delicious as the smell. She shook her head sending her hair flying once again in all directions, _blood…taste…Malfoy food? _What in the world was she thinking, this wasn't her; _then again_, whispered a little voice in the back of her head.

Soft murmuring could be heard from the other side of the library, what was formally the reception, then a soft sigh and silence. Malfoy turned his head towards the sound slowly, his muscles were unbelievably tense. The whisper of shoes on glass had had his attention for a while until the voice. He was quite aware that Hermione Granger was no longer in destructor mode and that she had finally spotted him. He was weak at that moment in time, having used a considerable amount of energy, trying to sojourn the blood flow and at the same time, keep his mental shields up, but he'd realised how utterly stupid it was, when his vision had begun failing him. The small cuts along his physique had clotted over, his own flesh had gradually sealed around the glass, in order to stay the blood, but he was still weak and would not last much longer if he was not attended to soon.

With his walls down, anything and everything metaphysical came his way like fire flies to light; and that was overwhelming considering he had been shielding against practically everything since the day he had hexed his farther. With the sudden heightened awareness, he had seen in vivid hues of turquoise, crimson and all the colours of the rainbow, Hermione Granger startled out of her trance; and watched silently in his head, her tentative steps towards the window, her sudden awareness of her surrounding and eventually him. Long, aristocratic fingers caressed his wound unconsciously, drawing wide circles around the swelling flesh as he watched her confusion, and saw her muscles tighten in need. Then a swath of violent red, with speckles of black washed through his mind, subsequently lost like a memory; but he would remember this, he would remember catching a glimpse of her darkness. The buzz of hunger shivered across his skin, but it wasn't his; this hunger would never be his. Then, came the soft murmurs from the other side of the library, _Madame Pince…_he thought; his hearting skipping a beat as he realised that even with his shields down he had not sensed her. Though surely she was alive, she may have been weakened by the discharge of energy, so much so, that she had become psychic _white noise, _however he very rarely had to cope with the weighted hand of all metaphysical beings and energies on his already weakened shoulders.

Hermione had fought down the persevering tightening in her body, the need. Whiffing the tangy scent of bodily liquid through her nose had not eased the struggle. Fear danced down her spine, fear of this unrelenting need, but the increasing fear had helped her suppress it. The ghastly scene around her had not registered in her mind, apart from the irritating noise her feet made as they ground into the shards of glass. She had seen Malfoy, all bloodied and looking quite harmless, but she had not set eyes on Madame Pince. 

The strange hunger was but an ache in her physical being, not a roaring mind boggling need. She could think again; Madame Pince was somewhere among all this carnage, and it was her fault. Her chest ached, it was her fault…_this isn't the time for self pity _she chastised herself. First she would have to deal with Malfoy and then she would need to get help. Before that she had to make sure Madame Pince wasn't in any immediate danger. _Yes, back to your pragmatic self. _She thought. Though no matter how hard she tried she would never be the same old Hermione Granger. _What would Harry and Ron…_she couldn't finish the thought, no more self pitying; she would deal with them when to got to them, not before. How well she seemed to be coping with everything was, confusing; looking on the wounded Malfoy didn't bother her, blood never did bother her; chaos never did bother her. As a matter of fact, death had never sparked a reaction from her. Hermione walked anxiously towards Malfoy, what did bother her though, was seeing Malfoy, so weak. He had always been unwavering, strong, arrogant and looking on him now as she steadily approached him, he was none of those.

She reached him in a few long strides and as she neared him, his shoulder wound became more disconcerting. It was clearly obvious that he needed her urgent attention; she snorted, _urgent attention…_what seemed like hours ago, she had wanted desperately to get away from him; to find her magic ball. Hermione stopped before him. Her magic ball… looking up ahead of the injured Slytherin, she set cool eyes on the luminescent sphere, now spinning lazily above the ruin; while in her unnatural trance the sphere had spun fiercely, slicing the ancient runes deeper into its skin, as it glowed a brilliant blue. Now, the sphere was as she first spotted it, shinning a pale blue, almost turquoise, though no longer did it look evanescent.

Malfoy felt her before him, standing so, very still as he felt her search for something, then find it. Her aura raged around her like crimson flames, licking at his sealed wounds and his shoulder. At the touch of her metaphysical fingers he felt his own aura respond to hers, shimmering in warm waves of heat above his skin. Then he remembered the meeting, how when Hermione's body had become slack then unexpectedly tense; he had caught a diluted wisp of fear from the old man. The lack of blood had slowed down his body, and suddenly thinking was becoming a chore. Would she just stand there all day and stare through him as if he were a curtain of fine silk?

She stared at the sphere for a moment longer oblivious to Malfoy's plight. Finally she remembered what she had intended to do, help Malfoy. With a gasp, she dropped to her knees before him, reaching out a hand tentatively to touch him. Her physical fingers brushed past his own that were still caressing the wound in his shoulder absentmindedly. The touch tore a gasp from his lips, and slowly he turned his head towards her, his hair falling into his eyes and around his face like a curtain. Hermione draw her hand way from his, thinking that she had caused him pain, wrinkling her eyes in what seemed to be her own pain. Or maybe it was exhaustion, so many emotions had been riding her since she came to; though she had never been truly asleep, the strain was testing her limits; but the day was not done with her yet it seemed.

She peered at him through the curtain of his almost frost coloured hair, trying to find his eyes. The door to his soul; unbeknownst to her, he had had a taste of her soul and it made him ache. Her eyes slid down to his lips, chapped, dry lips as he heaved a sigh and moved his jaw up and down, she watched the muscles in his throat and jaw work, clench and unclench as he tried to speak to her. Alarmed, she put a finger to his lips, quelling the wasted attempts to speak and with another hand, brushed the hair from his eyes, leaving him blinking at her. She noticed how his eyes, though they seemed to look at her, expressionless and devoid of anything, even pain, were unfocused. _Blood…_she looked around her, at him, smelt the tangy flavour of blood and instantly knew he had lost a considerable amount of it. His chest was smeared with blood, along his arms long, deep cuts were clotted over, his shoulder…in patches of unstained skin, the blood and colour itself seemed to have drained out through his wounds leaving his skin a chalk white; but he was not ice cold to the touch. No, she realised as she trailed a finger down his cheek, he was hot to the touch, skin too hot and clammy that she knew his body was burning up, as if he were in the grips of an intense fever.

"Malfoy…" she whispered through trembling lips, she knew it, as simply as she knew how to breathe, that Malfoy would die today. And it bothered her; it filled her with pain, then confusion and denial. She was mourning for Malfoy, even before his death! But she could not accept this death like she had accepted the deaths of others; she had not known them, none of them, as she had known her enemy; maybe that is why it hurt her. Another sigh escaped him, and he closed his eyes, his fingers stopped playing over his wounds; and then as Hermione's eyes widened, his entire body became slack and came sinking down towards her.

His head fell into her lap with a soft thud, his shoulders held above the ground, arms by his side and knees folded underneath him. Obviously the position he was in was not a comfortable one, any conscious person would have been complaining, but the boy in her lap was unconscious; and she hoped the he would stay that way, hoped she would have enough time to keep him alive, permanently. As she pleaded silently, eyes wide in shock once more. She did not notice the gasp, and crunch of glass underfoot. She did not hear the screams of panic and patter of feet, nor did she see Madame Pince limping out of the library with the help of Professor McGonagall, or feel the pairs of hands that lifted her up while another pair dislodged the young Slytherin from his place in her lap. All this she did not hear, see, feel, because she had, by the time the boys had come; been whisked away by exhaustion and shock into darkness; and this time she welcomed the silence, the peace with open arms. Lost herself to the void she had feared to give herself over to for so long, and she found comfort within the abyss, and a peace that she knew she would never find; not in any form of meditation, but only the darkness would ever bring her any kind of equanimity.

_She sat high upon her mighty throne and gazed down at her loyal followers. Not with scorn or with compassion. Her pale __colourless eyes glittered like diamonds, as she sat on that mighty throne of hers. Somewhere in the distance came the sharp echo of footsteps on the marble floor, but apart from that the throne room was silent, no one dared to make any sound that might gain them the young queens displeasure. For her consort had just perished, leaving her child fatherless and her own heart broken. _

_The footsteps approached, the sound of metal heels crashing against the smooth surface of the marble tiles seemed unnerving for the straight-backed guards by the door. A black cape swept into the room, the face hidden by its thick hood; the silence deepened, here entered the murderer; here stood an elite of the Kardeshian army; a betrayer._

_If one had thought they knew silence, then they were wrong. As the commander, stood before his queen, the silence was utterly complete. It was a silence without a meaning behind it, without a motive. It was true silence that enveloped the throne room. Fiery raven spikes, framed the fallen worrier's face, like thorns around a rose. He was beautiful, sharp cheekbones, bronzed skin, full lips, and eyes of the abyss. Profoundly calm, even though he knew what was to come; intelligent eyes that were framed by the graceful sweep of his eyebrows. His bone structure was delicate but he was fierce, fierce when he wanted to be._

_However, he was the epitome of calm, standing before the queen without his features in the dark, as she had wished. They were to be able to see the traitor's face, hold him in their memory for however damn long they lived. Though he knew the real reason she would have his actions revealed to all; power corrupted all, however small the rot was to start off with. That she had not had him publicly whipped before the entire court was a mystery to him, and if she were to punish him, she might as well get it right. The throne room was situated inside the Shoraun Kath of Dekeatha. __Kingdom__ of __Light__, this light of the Kardeshi; and where there is light is there not shadows? Shoraun Kath. It was laughable, but he was not here for a laugh._

_"Yaorina Shoraun Kath deka."__ The traitor bowed low at the waist. The movement enacted with practiced grace, that simple movement stole a gasp from the queen's throat; making the courtiers fidget._

_"Yaorine?" she mocked, her voiced laced with the richness of anger. "Gora nedeka Shoraun Kath veh!" _

_The courtiers bristled at the tone of her voice. Their queen was usually so composed; secret glances flittered from eye to eye telling of the rumors that were still floating around the Kath, even though the queen had decreed that should any of these obtuse rumors reach her ears, it would mean death._

_"Neran deva nesan, Tamarra Mikeshido!" said the young queen with quite a lot of vigor. How dare he stand before her now and mock her, no queen would tolerate that kind of behavior; and he was lucky he had a merciful queen…if it had been Naveda he had betrayed; she would have slit his throat herself, bathed in his blood and watched the life fade from his eyes as she did so._

Yes_, she thought at the image, reminding her of three nights precedent, when she had bathed in Savitah's blood. His frost __coloured hair, stained pink with his own blood; and he had kneeled before her, weak; and she had devoured him, from his beautiful winter's storm eyes to pastel white toes…_

_Winter's storm eyes…frost __coloured hair…pastel white skin…Draco…_

"Draco…Draco, can you hear me dear?" a fuzzy warm voice said, a note of apprehension attached to her words. Hermione awoke from her dream sleepily, listening to the voice coo Malfoy's name repeatedly, in an attempt to wake him up. She blinked sleep drugged eyes and metally shook herself; one didn't have to be genius to figure out that her; along with Malfoy were in the Hospital wing. White washed walls filled her vision, making her wince in pain; the colour, or rather the colourless walls were so bright it hurt her suddenly sensitive eyes.

"Get away from me you old crone" growled a voice; whoever it was sounded as if they had had their throat scrapped raw, but she heard no pain to sharpen their obviously rude outburst. Hermione blinked, and finally the brightness of the hospital walls dimmed. A heavy weight on her stomach caught her attention, slamming her brain into gear from the panic that rushed through her. At that moment she had thought that Malfoy was still lying on her lap, a quick mental rewind fixed that thought. The weight shifted in what seemed like sleep; Hermione was still lying on her back; but pressing her chin to her chest let her catch sight of a mop of red hair and a pale forearm. The alarm must have washed away the grogginess, as she quickly processed the rather blunt features and decided that it was either Ron or Ginny. "Ginny" she whispered to the mop of red hair. It had to be Ginny, if it were Ron then Harry would be with him as well; then again she was lying on her back. She attempted to lift her right hand to graze the red head on her stomach but found that the muscles in her arm were stiff. A fabric plaster sat in the bend of her arm and she realised that, there was a slight pain oozing from the bend of her arm.

She could not move her left arm, Ginny/Ron was sprawled across that arm; an idea occurred to her, _let's wake 'em up_. Ginny lifted her head away from Hermione, as soon as the thought appeared; and pinned sleep induced eyes onto the girl beneath her. Hermione stared back, a small smile curving her lips in greeting. Ginny widened eyes, all traces of sleep vanishing in an instant and opened her mouth to call Madame Pomfrey.

"Get your hands off me!" shouted a hoarse voice; the effect was the sound of nails on black boards. Ginny had to grin; a Malfoy would always be a Malfoy.

TBC

A/N: Yesss….its done, when you're motivated enough, you can do anything! I want to say thanks big thanks to:

ghypscee: Glad u waited that long for the 4th chappi! Just shows how much u appreciate the work

Mikasa Wormhole: Good to see there's other people who have an interest in my work

And a even bigger thanks to etiolefilant83, you are great to talk to, just that I never see you online!!! You know who you are, and by the way seeing that you are really enthusiastic about DIMS is really, really motivating! I thank those who have the curtsey to REVIEW!!!!!

PRESS THAT BUTTON!!!

Fuzz-out 


	6. Chapter 6

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Chapter 6**

Severus glared malevolently at Yaji, his mouth twisted into a hideous sneer. The man was an utter bastard; oh yes it was certainly true…The porcupine had endangered the wellbeing of every student and teacher in the school; and he didn't look at all fazed, no, he had the sheer cheek to feel rage. His sneer widened as he looked down his nose at the man. Surely Dumbledore must have been insane when he hired him; the man was bloody immune to Veritaserum!

Yaji watched the gathered professors, his face a mask of indifference; though under the scrutiny of the Potions Master, Yaji seemed very at ease. The girl had survived of course, he couldn't let her die, everything would have been a waste of effort if he had; but the boy, he should have died. It was the will of the gods; the Malfoy boy was a sensitive, and by the looks of it more so than the old fool. The gods, had decreed his death, and she had helped him escape his fate. Now he had the blood of the young Kardeshi running through his veins, and it wasn't the blood of just any Kardeshian; a coil of anger unraveled itself within him. The fool Dumbledore had insisted it be her blood. _What was the old man up to?_

Ever since their previous meeting, the old man had had his mental shielding set to high. In the end meditation hadn't helped at all; there had been so many ki charges in the atmosphere, that when he closed his eyes all he did pick up were bits of _her._ They were both so alike in many ways, yet undeniably different. _It seems that the girl may have a touch of empathy; though it is certain that she will be very receptive after she wakes from her slumber; but what of the boy?_ The child's own ki was very strong; not after the transfusion, but before and still is. The boy has the potential to be dangerous and retrospectively one can see why.

He glanced at Dumbledore, while assessing the other professors gathered. The one called McGonagall looked flushed, a frown creasing her forehead and settling unceremoniously onto her lips. Snape's face seemed to have frozen and captured the malignant sneer and obvious disgust in his eyes. Flitwick was clearly agitated by the level of animosity in the room; meanwhile, lightning fast looks traveled between departed Heads and the rest of the gathered staff; all except Madame Pomfrey and the large oaf Hagrid. Pomfrey was in the hospital wing trying to get the Kardeshi and Malfoy to respond to her calls like obedient dogs. Speaking of dogs, Hagrid was tending to the distressed animals. All animals are sensitive to all things metaphysical and considering the level of metaphysical activity that was still going on, they were more than just distressed, they were partially insane. The residential spirits however, were drunk with the power rush, still buzzing with it. Spirits are just a memory of an essence; they are quite pure, unhampered ki – life energy; the energy drifts had shaken the whole school for an entire day and night. The problem was that Hogwarts castle itself, was forged from magic, from ki. Every once in a while it _remembered _the energy rush; and books, pens, desks and sometimes even people went flying into the air; that is why for a day and night the entire student body had slept out in tents on the school grounds. Except the girl and the boy; they had had their own unconscious defenses up around them.

Dumbledore kept silent, his professors were waiting for answers. He had thought that he would not be able to seal the Drifts but he had; and so would have to have the answers and he did. The Drifts had not just been energy, they had been her, the essence of Hermione Granger; but her memories had told him that Hermione Granger she was not, rather, she was something else, someone else with no future, but who definitely had a past. However the memories were not Hermione's, though all in all they were a part of her, a part that she had no knowledge of and knowing what he knew, it was probably better off that way. _Probably not _he thought. _She _had given him the answers that Yaji had not. It may be that Yaji did not have all the answers to the questions he needed answering after all.

The old man sighed and shifted his spectacles up his nose. The Drift had spoken, but even memories could not be trusted and things it had revealed where better left unsaid. He straightened in his large leather chair and eyed his professors over his half-moon spectacles. As suspected, the man who called himself Yaji was observing him with a silent curiosity of his own. So, the tenacious young man had been finally outsmarted, by an old man nonetheless; maybe the day would get better.

"I am aware you have all gathered here under the semblance of an attack by Voldemort." His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it reverberated throughout the enclosed space like an echo. The Head's office was meant to occupy two to four students including the Head himself and no more; as he looked upon his fellow employees, they had managed to make themselves comfortable. A small smile curled his lips and worked its way into his eyes, the benefits of magic.

"The catastrophic event has not gone uninvestigated; and all are aware of what has befallen our two brightest students." He raised his eyebrows at everyone, though it was more of a statement, not a question.

Snape creased his face in disgust, little wrinkles clustering around the corners of his eyes. Granger and Malfoy were both comatose the last he had checked. Narcissa was still having bloody fits; from the moment she found out that her only child had been so near to his death; and the Dark Lord had not been happy. What an understatement that was. It seems that the influx of energy, though it had not penetrated Hogwarts magical boundaries, had been sensed by the Dark Lord; then the news of Draco Malfoy's condition; and like 11=2; Angry Dark Lord Angry Dark Lord = Punishment. Snape had been appointed the child's guardian, when Lucious was diagnosed a schizophrenic, though he had always been mentally unstable for a while, that's what made being a sadist so much easier. So, it was only fair that Snape get the blame for the young boy's injuries; if he had fulfilled his duties as the young Malfoy's guardian, then this would not have happened.

"Oh, we are quite aware of the condition of our students, _sir_, but not the loyalty of our professors." He drawled coldly, eyeing Yaji as he said so.

"Serverus Snape," Huffed McGonagall, "if you have nothing nice to say, then don't say anything at all." She scowled. The problem was, he never said anything civilized enough to be considered nice.

"As amusing it is to watch you squabble among yourselves…" Said Yaji, letting his sentence trail purposely, to stress the other matters at hand.

Draco Malfoy, glared at the Mediwitch. The walls were too bright; the ringing in his head too loud; and the eternally frustrating witch would not leave him alone! White spots filled his vision as he tried to focus on what the witch was saying. He watched her mouth open and close like a fish, no sound penetrating those lips, except for the bruising ringing in his head. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Get away from me you old crone." A rumbling noise, from the bottom of his throat; sound rushed into his ears at those words and Madame Pomfrey looked vaguely satisfied.

His throat felt like it had been scrapped raw by a machete, wincing he touched a hand to his throat. Pomfrey's eyes glittered and she rushed off to get a salving balm for his throat. Malfoy swallowed painfully, rubbing his fingers across his throat, as if his touch would ease the rawness. He rolled his eyed up to stare at the ceiling, when he heard the soft flutter of a whisper. Turning his neck slightly to the right, to get a better look at the source of the whisper, he stopped. Stifling a groan he slid his fingers from around his throat to massage the muscles of his neck and shoulders, but he stopped. _I should be dead_, what a strange thought, but he wasn't. He was alive because of _her_, though she had tried to kill him. _Ah…_he sighed, as he tried to ease the stiffness in his neck and shoulder, he began to remember.

A torrent of colours spiraled in his minds eye; and slowly he began to decipher the jumble in his head. Granger had burnt out and unleashed an inundation of power at him; it had missed and turned the library inside out. It was all coming back to him; though, memories right after he had brought down his mental barriers were unclear. Somehow she had subdued his soul, long enough for help to arrive, but what about her? Her brown curls had been in a mess, though her robes were immaculate, her skin pristine; that is until she came to him and laundered in his blood._ No…but she wanted to._ The burning hunger, it had raged through her and by sheer stubbornness she had fought against it and won, nevertheless he had felt it dance across his skin, even if he could not see the expression on her face when she got a good look at the mess that was his shoulder. He could feel her power shimmering, like heat from her hand as she reached out to touch him, even now. A slight twisting, tightening sensation made him shiver. There had been so much blood…all of it his.

It was his shoulder then that was causing him the stiffness, and his current torment would be due to the sincerity of Miss Granger. Everything would have been much easier if he had just died, he should have, after loosing a large amount of blood. Madame Pomfrey would have either had to recreate a substantial amount of blood or get a pint or two from a donor, and leave his body to heal the damage done, with a little magical aide of course. The stiffness in his neck was gradually subsiding, and while it had lasted, it had achieved to help him focus.

Pomfrey's soft leather shoes, made gentle pattering noises as she walked towards Malfoy's cubicle, salve clutched tightly in one hand and wand in another. The noise of pattering feet died down as she slowed her strides, to stop altogether as she reached him. Silently, her eyes focused on the hand unscrewing the cork from the vial, she set about to sooth the young Malfoy's distress; even if it was not apparent to the world. Finally she popped the cork off the vial and poured the viscous mixture into her wand hand, placing the vial onto the stand to the left of Malfoy's head. Her attention, turned to Malfoy, and her eyes roamed over his neck, inspecting it for inflammation; there was none.

Malfoy watched her silently pour the baby blue mixture into her hand and place the green vial and wand onto the night stand. The thing _reeked_, he wrinkled his nose in disgust; she was going to lather him with that vile potion! Stormy grey eyes narrowed at her, flashing threateningly, but she ignored him. He watched her rub her palms together for a short while and then malodorous hands reached for him. He scooted away from them until his back was firmly placed against the white washed walls of the hospital wing. He glared at those putrid hands maliciously, finally accepting the wicked treats that fate had in store; or maybe not.

"Get your hands off me!" he shouted, as the mediwitch's hands made contact with the burning skin of his throat, instantly cooling and soothing. Oh, it reeked; the fetid smell filled his senses to the brim, it was almost enough to make him vomit bile all over those repugnant hands! Madame Pomfrey mercilessly rubbed the lotion into his entire neck, stoking and massaging the muscles in his shoulders. After she had removed the embedded glass, it had taken nights and days to slowly re-grow the intricately woven nerve tissues in his arm; and after healing and days of indolence, then to be suddenly in use, had wound his muscles into knots of tension and general stiffness. Massaging was also a great way to promote circulation of the blood. She cringed, next she would have to check on how Hermione was fairing.

Ginny grinned idiotically at her closest friend, subconsciously taking in her appearance. Hermione Granger looked like a carriage had run her over; then slowly peeled her off the back of the horses' hoofs; fuzzy brown curls were tangled into dangerous looking knots and patches of skin around her eyes and mouth were an unusual shade of blue-grey. Heavy bags sat beneath surprisingly alerts eyes, which peered at her through hollows. Blue-green spider thin veins ran beneath the slightly translucent skin, from face to toes. Seeing Hermione so weakened, was a first for her; she had always been presented with a calm, healthy, charismatic and strong Hermione Granger. To others, charismatic was the wrong word to label the Griffindor Know-it-all with; though to Ginny, Hermione was every bit as alluring as, say…Malfoy. _And right now he's getting the Special Treatment…_she sniggered at his misfortune.

Hermione Granger gazed intently at Ginny's eyes, watching her reflection, twist abnormally in the Weasely's blue orbs. The youngest Weasely looked sincere; though her eyes sparkled with mirth. It had always fascinated her how one could look into ones eyes and read, sentences, paragraphs, stories; which twisted and changed at an odd glance. Human beings were like books to read and explore; some were so clear to understand while others were so hard to read, because they were in shadows. Many a time had she stared into a mirror and gazed at her own dark eyes, keen on finding something unknown to her conscious mind. But to turn away disappointed, as she came to realise, time and time again, that she was one of the unreadable, lost in the shadows. Just like Malfoy and Snape, and Yaji and….Dumbledore. But things forbidden can be so enticing. As of late she had been noticing the little changes that have taken place, mentally and physically. She was beginning to think that no longer was she stable enough to be among civilization; and now she was sure a room in St.Mungo's was awaiting her arrival. One only had to catch a glimpse of the chaos of the previous day…_wait a minute, how long have I been asleep?_

"Eleven days." Answered Ginny, her face set into a solemn mask.

Eleven days. She had been sleeping for eleven days; no wonder she had gotten to the throne room without interruptions. Hermione narrowed her eyes; she had gotten further in her dreams than last three months could ever get her; though now, she could not remember. She racked her brain for remnants of dreams past and came up empty. Eleven days. She had been comatose for eleven days! What about Malfoy, had he been asleep as long as she had been? It was most likely that he had; Malfoy had sustained worse injuries than her. Retrospectively, she had not attained a single scratch.

Hermione closed her eyes and shuddered, fortunately Malfoy was still alive and kicking-literally. But he was very lucky to be alive, after all the blood he had lost; a sharp pain turned her attention down to her right arm, specifically, to the plaster that sat in the crook of her arm. Understanding dawned on her, it was only logical. Malfoy would not have survived without a transfusion, a blood transfusion. She flexed her fingers experimentally, wincing slightly at the sharp pain.

Ginny was still watching her silently, her eyes narrowing with concern when she perceived the slight pained expression in her close friends face. "Are you alright" she asked, leaning towards Hermione; her eyes carefully re-examining her comrade for unhealed wounds.

Hermione shook her head wearily, pressing her head into the cool wall behind her. Ginny watched her anxiously, her eyes flitting longingly towards Malfoy's cubical. Hermione sighed and opened an eye to gaze at the redheaded girl before her, "Don't. I'm fine." She said. Continuing to wiggle her fingers about slowly, the muscles in her left arm ached; now that she was finally paying more attention to her body, everything ached; her muscles throbbed faintly with a distant memory of pain. Ginny frowned, clearly unsatisfied with her comrade's answer. The patter of leather clad feet made their way towards the adolescents followed by the slight rounded figure of Madame Pomfrey.

"Well, Ms Weasley. It seems you may be destined to become a fine mediwitch someday." Hot blood rushed to the young Weasley's cheeks her lips curling into a contented smile.

Hermione wrinkled her noise, _blood…_she could smell blood; she looked pointedly at Ginny. A frown settled between her eyebrows. Madame Promfrey pursed her lips into a tight line, her forehead wrinkling as she ushered the Weasley girl away, in order to reach Ms. Granger. Hermione's noise twitched, the smell had faded, but like the ache in her muscles, it was not gone completely; then as the mediwitch drew nearer, blood, warm and sweet filled her senses to the brim and she closed her eyes again, drawing in a deep breath to keep from moaning. It was so strong…she could almost taste it, roll it in her mouth and –ooooohh. She suddenly realised, that for eleven days she had not eaten food, excluding the fact that she could have been fed through a drip, though none was attached to her arm.

Heat, searing heat, burnt the skin on her forehead, to charcoal black, until she writhed; eyes still shut, savouring the rhythmic gush of sweet liquid that filled her mouth. _Thump, thump, thump…_then faster, like a dance, though the pulsing started from the searing heat, it beat strongly between her lips, as if she had captured a fleeing creature's heart between her teeth. _Food…_gods, she was so hungry. The constant river flowing through her lips, was not sufficient, she needed food, to tear, to bite, to chew. She needed….

A dull ringing was echoing in the recess of her mid; and it grew louder, more persistent. A coppery tasting liquid stained her mouth. She no longer needed; the overwhelming urges to tear, to bite, to _feed, _were gone; and left in its wake, was the sharp, high pitched ringing that seemed to turn her inside out, nipping at her ears with certain eagerness. She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed, only to gag on the rising mixture of blood and bile. A cool hand caressed her burning skin, stroking away the searing heat in a flood of icy warmth; she whimpered; what had she done? Cool hands turned her face, so that her right cheek rested on her pillow. The high pitched ringing dissolved into loud consistent wails. What was going on? What had she done this time? Hermione's lips trembled, the eyes hidden behind the veil of skin, filled slowly with tears.

"Oh, stop your blabbering Onna, for once you've actually done something right." Growled a deep gravely voice. It was familiar, having grated on her nerves since the owner first stepped into Hogwarts. Yaji. The wails slowly died down, followed by the soft shushing of a female voice.

Hermione sniffled, like a child caught sulking. Why did he have to be here at her weakest, most humiliating moment? Why? Where the gods out to torment her; because it seemed like so. She sniffled and whimpered again then halted her next sniffle when she heard a distinct snort of disgust. Tears held at bay behind her eyelids, to open them would be to admit her weakness to him; and for some strange reason she just could not do that, she hiccupped a sniffle, even in a hospital bed she still had some dignity left.

"How pathetic…." He mumbled under his breath, watching the poor excuse for a Kardeshi sniffle and whimper beneath his gaze; in no way was this his fault, he told him self. A bandage was securely wrapped around his right wrist; patches of red stained the whiteness of the gauze. At least now the ritual would be sealed, totally, completely. _That blasted old man will have a lot of explaining to do._

Ginny quieted her wails to sobs, strong arms crushed her against a male chest and another pair of hands stroked her hair, whispering words of quietness and containment. McGonagall mumbled enchantments, to sooth and quieten the much shaken Ginny Weasley. She had scowled at Professor Yaji after his outburst; the poor girl, to have had to witness that. She sighed, pulling her hands away from Ginny's scalp to leave her in the arms of her elder brother. It had been a sight for sore eyes; Ginny Weasley had rushed to the Head Office, after mysteriously managing to get past the gargoyle; she had slammed her fists repeatedly against the oak door, demanding immediate attention. How she had nearly had a heart attack when she opened the door, a teachers frown wrinkling her face, to see Miss Weasley, panting, tears streaming in an endless line down her face.

Quickly she had been ushered into the Head's Office; she had encouraged Ginny to tell her the reason for her untimely arrival; though the girl had needed no prior encouragement. Panting, voice cracked with tears, she had managed to croak: "Hermione…sh…she…she's killing her!" She was then sobbing so hard that her body shook with the effort to keep her upright. "Oh god…someone…help her…" finally she had collapsed onto the plush carpet, clearly very disturbed. The room had suddenly become chaotic, Professor Yaji had rushed out of the door, Serverus Snape on his trail and soon the whole meeting rushed after them, wanting to see what the ruckus was all about.

She'd encircled the wailing Ginny in her arms, she had been obliged to leave, and attend to one of her own pupils, while another of her _children_ wailed her distress. However the young girl objected to being left alone in the room, though she had ensured her that this was one of the safest places inside Hogwarts itself, though the girl had insisted on going with her even if it meant that she would have to see, whatever horror that was in the Hospital Wing again.

Dragging the sobbing Ginny along with her to the Hospital Wing had severely slowed down her pace; and she began to realise, as she stepped through the doors to the Hospital wing that, the upcoming dilemma had probably already been solved, after all, every professor of Hogwarts was in that very room with Hermione and whoever was trying to kill her. She had been proved right, the problem had been solved and in one of the most unlikely way possible to man.

Poppy lay in a circle of professors, being tended to. The torn flesh of one of her wrists was being sealed with a simple healing spell. Ginny screamed and screamed when she caught sight of Professor Yaji. Hermione lay back in her bed, her eyes closed, her fingers pressing Professor Yaji's right wrist to her parted lips. As McGonagall watched, horrified just as much the girl beside her, she noticed the pale throat of Miss Granger convulse as she swallowed with fervour. Her lips locked tightly around Professor Yaji's wrist. Yaji, however, watched her suck at his wrist, with hooded eyes; pain seemed to be non-existent to him; he was calm, as he watched her drain his life with every eager swallow.

Then finally it was all over. Yaji pulled back his wrist, and noted Hermione's lax expression with minor satisfaction before letting Vector tend to his injury. Madame Pomfrey was back on her feet in a matter of seconds; clearly quite shaken by what had occurred. In that moment, Harry and Ronald rushed into the Hospital wing, looking flustered. Later, when questioned, the duo said: they had heard screams coming from the Hospital Wing and Ronald quickly registered them as Ginny's, after that they had made a mad dash to get there.

McGonagall had abandoned the hysterical girl at the door to go to Poppy. Meanwhile, Albus Dumbledore had laid a hand on Hermione's head to calm the girl as she seemed to be waking up, from her very short faint. McGonagall eyed Ginny Weasley sympathetically; wanting to hold her in her arms and hug away her fears, but that was her mother's job. She sighed shakily, bringing up a hand to rub at her tired eyes; she was getting too old for this job.

Amidst the clutter, Malfoy had had his eyes trained on Granger for the past thirty minutes, just watching her with cool indifference across the Hospital Wing. This time he had not been the one to feel the sting of her power. Watching her _feed _had been tormenting, while he is so weak, he will not be able to keep this façade of ignorance up for much longer. Blatantly speaking that is. His shields were still down, and he could still See and feel. Though the slight refreshing buzz that the salve had brought to his skin had made the extreme emotions that he had felt swarm his being a little fuzzy. His day was not getting any better.

As he had watched Granger's teeth pierce the yielding flesh of the exasperating mediwitch's wrist, he had given thought to offering his assistance, not to the mediwitch; but to Hermione. The feelings and needs that had rushed through Granger had brought his breath in a rush, till then he had never felt such powerful emotions take hold of any being so completely, as it had Granger. However, the poor mediwitch had not been as delighted as he or the girl.

The disruption in the Hospital Wing that evening, had caused a severe amount of re-questioning, especially among the Professors. The students of Hogwarts however, had caught wind of a particular rumour, stating a crisis in the Hospital wing on Monday 19th September, in which Hermione Granger was the victim of an assassination attempt. However unlikely it may seem to those who knew the truth or as close to the truth at that moment in time; the student body mourned the loss of a fellow student, all except the Slytherins; who unfortunately had a certain Slytherin pureblood trapped in the Hospital wing along with the quite hypothetically dead mudblood.

* * *

A/N: well there it is I guess. I know its taken me ages to get it posted, thanks to, what is becoming a frequent state of writers block. (It seems to me that there is a pattern.) as I was reading through this the eighth or ninth time, (I can't remember) I noticed that DIMS seems to be going Practically nowhere, I will continue writing though in the hopes that by the next eighth chapter, the pace would actually quicken and we can get to where we are supposed to be; though this story is going pretty slowly, this chapter and the previous are still important as I intend to relate, them to upcoming events in future chapters. THNX 4 READIN 'N' REVIEWIN-just thanking people in advance

Fuzz-out


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Draco Malfoy listened for the odd footstep here and there, wanting desperately to get out of the bed. Pansy and her posse had come to visit him just moments ago, inquiring on his psychological and physical health and whining about his misfortune. Yes, while they whined for him, he pinned for the great outdoors. Two days, it had been, two days, since Granger had attacked the mediwitch and Yaji. Two days stuck in a hospital bed, he groaned, it was actually thirteen days stuck in a hospital bed. He couldn't wait to walk out those doors; no matter how healthy and healed he insisted he was, Madame Promfrey would be adamant in her belief that every person that walked through those swinging doors would not leave until she branded them good to go.

Now, the mediwitch was an intrigue. Since the 'incident' she had treated Granger and himself no different, still the bossy crone that she first was. It seemed likely that she thought Granger was suffering from an insanity evoking illness; and since he, himself, had her blood coursing through his veins, he must also be suffering from the same illness. It wasn't so the mediwitch's behaviour which led him to that thought, rather, an odd inquiry by the Headmaster, Professor Snape and Yaji. Who no longer had a bandage wrapped around his wrist; though, a thin pink scar ran in a semi circle beneath his palm.

Two days, his legs were still quite numb and would be for a long time to come if he didn't get out of this damned bed. Thick turquoise drapes hung across the giant windows, a faint breeze blowing the drapes outward. Stuck in bed and in semidarkness for thirteen days, could life get any worse? _No, let's not answer that question. _He chided himself for his restlessness. Malfoy wrinkled his nose, in disgust, a low growl bubbling at the back of his throat; his metaphysical shield had been put in place a few hours before the predicted arrival of his concerned Slytherin peers; though his senses were still as sharp and sensitive.

The rustling of bed sheets caught his attention, she was awake at last. The startled gasp as she regained her surroundings made him smirk.Malfoy closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath through his nose, drawing on the metallic and stale smell of the infirmary, wrinkling his nose when the stench of old, powdery animal fur tickled his cilia. Then the spicy and wet earthy smell, like the smell of the earth after it had been beaten mercilessly by the rain, wafted through his nostrils. A tangy, delicious smell that he had named Hermione Granger; she had disturbed him, with her ability to invoke emotions out of him, emotions that he still could not place names to, emotions that he was truly unfamiliar with; well except for fear, anger, betrayal…

And acceptance? His wayward thinking had led him to believe that when Granger's blood was forced to pump his heart again, he had unknowingly agreed to accept some of her burdens, no, not burdens; but, a part of her, some part of her that he was not acquainted to. His memories were like flames, which licked eagerly at his eyes; like her power had melted his skin, peeled him apart like an orange and put him back together again.

He sat up straight suddenly and looked past where Hermione sat in her bed, the curtains to her cubical now drawn back. She too was looking towards the door, a frown creasing her forehead. The echo of many footsteps came first then the smells, a clean citrus, scented heavily with the musky aroma of earth and herbs and enclosed in the overpowering fragrance that both adolescents had become acquainted to; and musky, headstrong, dry tangy fragrance that was isolated, by the other earthy smells, this one was hot, and dangerous; a fitting depiction of Yaji.

Two long billowy cloaks peeked through the large doors, a soft brush of air was heard, and both had to quieten the paced beating of their hearts to be able to hear that low, low sound. After, more wrinkling of fabric and a rustle here and there, the stout figure of Dumbledore filled the doorway; the two professors, kept up the pace, neither slowing down. Yaji, in his billowing black robes stopped before Hermione's cubicle, when Dumbledore reached him; he turned into Hermione flashing her, a cheerful smile, which Hermione did not return.

Snape, however, walked past them and toward Malfoy; his face twisted into a sneer as his gaze fell upon the frowning Malfoy. _It seems I'm in for another lecture…_

Hermione Granger glared at him severely, wanting very much to mark his face with her nails. He had a lot of explaining to do. Dumbledore was being his usual cheery self, smiling tenderly at her. She knew that they weren't here for friendly chit chat. With the two darkest faced professors in the school _and_ Dumbledore, she snorted. Yaji, caught her gaze travelling over his features darkly and jeered , violet eyes illuminating with a malicious glow. Hermione frowned; she had never noticed Yaji's eyes before, even when glaring at him intently throughout their _fortuitous _meetings.

Dumbledore shot a weary glance between the two, noticing the sparkle in the young man's eyes.

Meanwhile, four beds away, Madame Promfrey and Professor Snape were enclosed in a heated conversation; both said persons looking somewhat vexed. Obviously Madame Promfrey was trying to put a halt to the impromptu visits of Dumbledore and the aforementioned professors, all for the benefit of her patients. A snort of derision from Malfoy was covered gracefully by the sudden racking coughs that seemed to make his body convulse, followed by a painful jerking of the muscles in his once previously injured arm. Malfoy used his right hand to clutch the convulsing arm to his body. Jaws clenched so tight that he ground his teeth together, drawing a crunching sound from behind his lips.

He was still coughing it seemed, the convulsing of his arm deadened slowly, attempting to jerk away from his body every other second or so. His jaws were beginning to ache softly. He was still coughing; no, someone was coughing and his convulsions were subsiding, for now. Jaws still shut tight he turned a rather pained expression to see Snape and the mediwitch watching him curiously. Wasn't the damned woman to do something of aide to him?

Whoever had been coughing stopped abruptly, followed with a stretch of time, hollowed by silence.

"Well?" Rasped the cool blonde; gazing at his head of house importunately.

Snape's features narrowed into a glower, he looked upon Malfoy with annoyance.

"Mr. Malfoy," he said but turned his steely gaze to Madame Promfrey, "If I may be so bold as to ask, whether it was only a shoulder he injured, not his head?" He raised a black eyebrow at the mediwitch.

Madame Promfrey became flustered, turning a shade of cool pink, eyeing the professor haughtily. She placed hands on her hips, leaning forward till she was nose to nose with Snape. "Severus Snape," she began, "Don't you use that tone with me," she said, her voice laced with angry indignation. Malfoy snorted derisively, watching the adults with wide eyes, a smirk twitching his lips.

Madame Promfrey whirled around to face him, sending him a malevolent glare; Malfoy immediately shrunk into his bed, burrowing into the covers as far as possible. Snape simpered, amused. "And don't you start questioning my expertise, Professor Snape, half the students hospitalized in this ward, come straight from your potions class!"

Snape's smirked slowly faded around the edges, vanishing altogether after a few seconds. "Madame, I do not doubt your skills; the Headmaster and I would like a word or two with Mr. Malfoy here and if you'd be so kind as to accompany us, for the Headmaster and Professor Yaji would also like to speak to you." His gaze fell on the mediwitch, petitioning her silently, to put the sudden squabble aside and do as he said.

The mediwitch shot him a incisive look, not taking his rather rare to come by apology to heart. She nodded, eyes narrowing at Malfoy. She pursed her lips in thought and pulled out her wand from her waistband pointing it threateningly at the boy. She parted lips to utter a sharp incantation, only to be stopped by Snape; who demanded that Malfoy use his feet after days of being fussed over and treated like the spoilt brat that he was. Malfoy sent a silent prayer of appreciation to his Head of House, it looked like his wish would some true! Out of the damned bed at last, well that is, if his legs didn't betray him.

He spilled the covers over the edge of the bed and sat so that his feet touched the cool stone tilling, little shivers of anticipation and shock at the stark coldness of the floor crawled up his spine, sending the hairs on his neck to stand up in a solute.

"Mr. Malfoy?" enquired the potions Master.

"Fine." He breathed, bracing his arms against the edge of the bed, slowly pushing himself up while putting more pressure on his feet. A small tremor ran through his knees, making them shake ever so slightly but still noticeable. Madam Promfrey made as if to stall what she was beginning to think of as imprudence when Snape intervened once more.

Malfoy gritted his teeth, pushing himself up into a standing position, most of his weight concentrated on his knees and feet. A slight wobble in his knees was the only thing to keep him from daring to take another step. He waited, feeling the penetrating gaze of his Head of House on his face, but the he could only look fiercely at his knees and will them to stay still. They did, suddenly, they stopped shaking and tentatively he lifted a foot off the ground almost losing his balance as he did so. A hand at the edge of the bed stalled his ominous fall. And so he pushed himself upright again, waiting to regain his full orientation then slowly pulled a foot off the floor, bending at the knees and swiftly placed it a step in front of his other foot before he could tumble to the cold tiles. This unlikely ritual was repeated, until Malfoy's toes curled in protest at the abrupt endeavour placed on his feet.

Having slowly but surely reached the Head Master and Hermione Granger's cubical Madame Promfrey hurriedly sat the pale Malfoy down in the wooden chair next to Hermione. She glared at him unabashed, earning a reprimand from the mediwitch.

Yaji, watched all this with a condescending eye, barely able to keep the sneer off his face. Madame Pompfrey set herself up between Hermione and Malfoy, a hand resting on the back of the wicker chair; the hand that Hermione had bitten into two days ago. A shiny pink scar ran in a jagged half circle, an imprint of her teeth marks forever imbedded in the mediwitch's wrist.

Dumbledore took off his spectacles and cleaned them on his white beard, placing them back on after a close inspection. He smiled tenderly at the adolescents, "Well, it seems that the gathering took us long enough." He turned his head in inclination towards Yaji. The violet eyed man nodded, his eyes never leaving that of the girl before him. He shot her a bitter smile before beginning his tale.

"I need not explain myself when I say, that it has been a peculiar start to the school term." He paused, pointedly resting his gaze on Hermione as he said so.

"Keep silent;" he whispered, "but first," a hand delved into his bulbous robes, searching for his wand maybe? No, what he pulled out wasn't a wand. No, what he took out of his inner pocket made Hermione gasp and reach out as if to grasp it. Malfoy's eyes narrowed, he recognized the damned thing.

The luminescent sphere, twirled happily above Yaji's palm, a soft turquoise, like she had remembered, only the runes in the sphere were a dirty blood red. She looked up at the man towering over her, making a pained sound and clenching and unclenching the linen sheets. "W…where did you find it?" she asked, her face taking on a tormented look.

Yaji looked at her sceptically, "So, you did come in contact with it; peculiar." He said.

"Yes, but how?" Hermione asked, puzzled; how did he know about her blue ball?

Malfoy glared at the levitating dome, suddenly realising that it all began with the sphere, spinning inconspicuously among two great novels in the restricted section. Occulemency, they were; he remembered. He frowned, when? He had could not recall going to the restricted section of the library, not this year at least. With that one stray thought a dam seemed to have burst asunder, spilling all its precious treasure; and he saw her, in her first year, the restricted section; and the Philosopher's stone; second year and the chamber of Secrets, the polyjuice potion disaster, third year, and him.

He stared at Hermione, eyes wide, what in Merlin's name was going on? His mental shields had been put up, tight; he could not have gotten into her head with his shields in place so securely and by the looks of it she was in no position to break through his meticulous defences. Unless, the Headmaster or…he shot a controlled glance towards his Head of House and Headmaster, if they had broken through, he would have noticed. No one had tested the durability of his mental defences, in theory no one should have been able to get into his head, not even with occulemency. Then where had they come from, how had she appeared in his minds eye?

Hermione felt a sudden tingle run down her spine raising the small hairs at the back of her neck; she cast her troubled gaze away from the violet eyes of Yaji, to meet those of a certain fair haired boy. Troubled eyes, alike, seemed to meet and worlds were opened before them; portals to their very nightmares, each holding the key within their soul.

"Ms. Granger, Mr. Malfoy, stop ogling at each other this minute, there is quite a substantial amount to get through and I will not have my time wasted by hormonal teenagers," snapped Professor Snape, glaring at the two vicious.

The teenagers in question hastily broke their eye contact, looking in front of themselves instead. Hermione paled considerably, looking down at her lap before raising her eyes to glance blankly at Professor Yaji's chest.

Snape sneered, and motioned for Yaji to proceed. The other man nodded, his own gaze dancing between Hermione and Malfoy, looking very curious indeed. _It must be the blood ritual coming into effect, _he pondered. "As I was saying, before you decided that what I have to say is utterly insignificant to you." He drawled

Hermione slowly raised her gaze up, from his robe clad chest to his eyes. "I was distracted sir." she mumbled humbly.

"I see." His gaze softened for a millisecond, long enough for both Malfoy and Hermione to notice but not question. "Ms. Granger, you must listen carefully," he turned to shoot a calculating look at Malfoy, "as must you, Mr. Malfoy, what I have to say is of great importance." Malfoy nodded his understanding of the level of importance.

"Let us begin, without any interruptions might I add," he threw a purposeful look towards the standing professors huddled around Dumbledore. He paused for breath and stared hard at Hermione, as if wondering how to explain himself. "Ms. Granger, it seems that the gods have an ill fate awaiting us both, I have found my niece at last, after all these long years of searching, but she has no memories of which to recall our relation," he paused, watching Hermione carefully, "having prepared for such an incident in advance, I am brought to this;" He bent slightly at the waist lowering the sphere beneath her eyelevel; "you see, I left this in a place where she would be bound to find it, in the one place she was bound to look, it seems my niece," his warm breath blew against her face, as warm as a midsummer night's breeze.

Hermione looked into his eyes, her own shimmering softly with unshed tears; she shook her head, turning her tearful gaze towards the Headmaster imploringly, but he did not answer her. It was lies, it was all lies, how could he?...why would he? it just didn't make sense, why would he do this to her? Though, what scared her most was the fact that it was beginning to add up, beginning to make sense; and it felt right, what he was saying felt right; however, it couldn't be.

Yaji's rough voice brought her back to him again, "that my efforts were useless, if you have not activated your Eye of Relics, but your dreams are not helping you any, are they?" His gaze remained hard, though his voice was soft, like the gentle flutter of feathers; those last words were for her ears alone.

Draco Malfoy, for what seemed like the fifth time in his life was amazed, a trickle of emotion had seeped into his hardened features, which, a moment ago had been as still as a statue, picturesque, but lifeless. He kept his eyes plastered on the two before him, Granger and her uncle, her long lost uncle, how unreal. A whisper of a sigh went through him as he took in Yaji's last words to Granger, before placing the spherical Eye on Grangers lap and righting himself.

The professors were silent; Madame Promfrey had a stupendous look on her face, while Snape watched the room with dark blank eyes, as blank as his face. Dumbledore, looked ready to jump to Hermione's rescue, his cheeks were mottled with pink spots, his lips pursed tight; he stood up, gathering his robes about him and walked steadily towards the distressed girl.

The violet eyed young man, kept his eyes settled on the girl; her face had gone white, her pupils dilated, shock he diagnosed. The girl was in shock; her hair had been tied back with a band by the mediwitch earlier that morning, but still framed her face, an unruly mass of dark curls, throwing shadowy tendrils across her features. He pitied her silently, but to the unknowing person his eyes were hard, his stature severely straight, he looked like a man who had no time for sympathy or pity even; and he was so, except for unanimous occasions, when light manifested itself in his heart.

"Hermione Granger," he rolled her name over his tongue, as if testing the full optional the name carried. Everyone stopped what they were doing, turning to him; except for Dumbledore, who realised the sudden fatality of those words, or the words they would consequentially lead to.

"That is enough, I will not allow you to bombard her with incongruent information, and rather knowledge she will not need for the time being." Said an irked Dumbledore

The air between them sparked and fizzed, from a point where both their gazes met. "Dumbledore," warned Snape, his eyes locked on the vexed pair, they looked like they were ready to duel and over a bloody seventh year student at that. How preposterous! He knew Dumbledore cared for his students, but it was his own fault that they were now in such an uncompromising situation and surely the little chit would open her mouth and spurt out something obtuse. How wrong he was; it was not Hermione who opened her mouth, so to speak.

"Professors," said a calm Malfoy, trying to draw their attention. "I and _Miss_ Granger would rather be acquainted with the comforting knowledge of our timely departure from the hospital wing." He drawled lazily.

Yaji, turned to look at the boy out of the corner of his eye; Madame Promfrey looked indignantly towards the professors. Dumbledore however had caught on to Malfoy's bluntness. "Ah," he breathed, "yes, yes," and tore his gaze away from those of his rival.

However a shaking voice decided to intervened with a weak, "sir?" The professors turned towards the huddled figure of Hermione. In the time that it had taken for the Head and Yaji to break apart from their childish squabble; she had carefully drawn her knees beneath her chin, ducking behind the material veil of darkness her hair provided. Yaji faced her enquiringly, oh, there was something he had not said as of yet; a very delicate subject that was. Many a Kardeshi was very touchy when it came to issues of the blood…

She kept her features in shadow, hugging her knees to herself, with the white sheet drawn to her chin; a chill ran up her spine, spreading slowly to a hollow space in her chest. Dumbledore swept to her side, daring to reach out a tentative hand to touch her hair; she jerked away from his touch. He sighed, suddenly the years caught up with his straight backed physique; and his shoulders slouched, he fell slowly, to sit on the edge of her bed. The old man turned morose eyes towards the young man who declared himself to be the girl's biological uncle. "Tell her," he whispered softly.

Draco Malfoy listened carefully to the regretful tinge in the Headmaster's few words. If he had known that he could get the old man to slowly crumble only after one word, and gesture he would have laughed hysterically at the utter deliberation of such a thing; when he had tried so, in hindsight and failed hopelessly. The thick anxious silence engulfed the occupants, clinging to the hands and mouths like a viscous tar when the silence was shredded with a sharp snort, from one Severus Snape. He opened his mouth to say something then closed it, trying for the second time and succeeding.

"Pray, tell what is too important to be left until a later date; as I find the task of observing this galling altercation, whilst I still have essays to mark; terribly bothersome, thus I excuse myself from this travesty. Good day" He bowed his head in inclination towards the Headmaster and Professors and left, in long, agile strides.

"Now, Headmaster," Madame Promfrey, looked at her patients with concern; "how in the world this may concern me I have no idea but I cannot allow you to distress my patients with…with," she stopped lost for words and turned on her heal, also, returning to whatever it was she had been doing earlier.

Malfoy scowled, was it him or had this been going on just a touch too long?

"There are a few things which I cannot disclose in your…fragile state; but," he looked at the girl beneath the covers; "it is all to do with blood I'm afraid." Malfoy snorted, running a critical eye over the professor.

"Blood? Where have I heard this before?" Malfoy growled angrily, "Just tell her what it is she wants to know."

Yaji, turned to look at the boy, "A pureblood, you call yourself, how ironic, when your blood is no longer pure," He was interrupted by Malfoy, whom said haughtily: "Tainted by the likes of her," he sent a malicious glare Hermione's way; but she wasn't watching.

"You forget, Mr. Malfoy, with your shields in place so strongly how are you supposed to discern which blood taints which?" his look was condescending, bringing to mind the illusion of an aristocrat looking down on a peasant.

Malfoy tore his gaze away, angry at being found out so easily by this stranger, when he had kept his cerebral sensitivity close to heart; a secret worth keeping. His face was flushed slightly with suppressed embarrassment at his carelessness. He must have found him out whilst he was distracted by the know-it-all Granger.

"You, Hermione," said Yaji, slowly, testing the name on his tongue, "are a Kardeshi, not earth born, for you are of my blood line:" he turned to grimace at Malfoy, "and unfortunately so are you."

Dumbledore stood up slowly, as he watched the cold fire in Malfoy's eyes flare into something frightful. "What!" he shouted, gritting his jaws, straining the muscles in his neck severely. Malfoy tried to rise up, into a standing position but failed and fell back into the chair.

Hermione grimaced behind her hair, it still didn't explain the disgusting things she had done. Rather it brought up more questions, than answers. If she wasn't Hermione Granger, who exactly was she?

* * *

A/N: if you haven't noticed by now, I'm a pretty slow updater, all with their validated reasons, and no, it's not writers block; because I've finally sorted out the plot! Hurrah. In context I'd say hurrah was the wrong word to describe how I'm feeling right now, tired and hungry…got to get a snack, it'll have to be a midnight snack though. See how much I want to finish this chapter? I hope it hasn't put anyone off just yet, it might get a little too fantasy for some people, but we'll have to wait and see. Oh… can't you just feel the potential relationships? I mean all the minor clues are there. Like Yaji said, it's all in the blood.


	8. NOTE

I'm sorry, but after much deliberation I've decided that DIMS is going on temporary hiatus- (more like permanent hiatus). Reading over past chapters has truly made me cringe, in truth DIMS was more like a warm up sort of thing, handy practice, but I've just lost the drive, it doesn't excite me, the plot it crap, none of the things I'd mapped out would actually have made sense or even fit with the Harry Potter-verse. But I'll try again, something similar but not as farfetched. I think I'll just rewrite DIMS. I'm a perfectionist, every little detail has to work, must be perfect. Firstly I need to learn that too much of something can be a bad thing. Very hard to incorporate into my work.

So Bye bye DIMS, at least for a while.


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